


safe

by Aries The Gay Crusader (crepuscolo), jedormis (dottie_wan_kenobi)



Series: safety in numbers [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Boners, Awkwardness, Canon LGBTQ Character, Crack Treated Seriously, Cultured Dudebro Reggie, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Humor, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Betty Cooper, Protective Jughead Jones, Protective Veronica Lodge, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Tropes, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, at times - Freeform, oh my god they were roommates, s2a Jughead doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crepuscolo/pseuds/Aries%20The%20Gay%20Crusader, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/jedormis
Summary: “Hey, I was wondering something.”“Yeah?”“V’s friend’s story -- I’ve been thinking about it, and I know it’s silly, but it’s not that bad of an idea.”“No, I guess not. It got them what they wanted, so really, it was a success.”“Yeah. And I knowwewere talking about how we’re gonna pay for college…,” she says, and watches his eyes widen with understanding about where she’s taking this. “It’s not that bad of an idea,” she repeats. “I mean, we’re friends. And like V said, they didn’t -- they never took it past friends. We could do it.”He doesn’t say anything. Anxiety bubbles up inside her all over again, and in seconds, she’s sure that she’s crossed a line,ruinedthis. Whatever this is. In a small voice, she adds, “Couldn’t we?”Betty and Jughead get married for the FAFSA benefits. It goes about as well as can be expected, considering that Betty has a life-ruining crush on her new husband.ORAries and Dottie try to fit as many tropes in a story as humanly possible.





	1. YEAR ONE - PART ONE

**Author's Note:**

> This is [Ari](https://lgbt-representation-is-beautiful.tumblr.com/) and I's gay fever dream: her dream, my fever, because I was literally sick writing a good portion of this. Anyway, I actually wrote this based off of something [Batty](http://elizabethbettscooper.tumblr.com/) said about wanting a fake marriage au, and I had ideas so I responded,,, and then I wrote lots of words. This was originally supposed to be a one shot, then a three shot with an epilogue, but Ari and Izzie managed to trick me into making this a Real, Long Story with side fics and everything. Blame them for this mess.
> 
> I somehow managed to write the plot of Mamma Mia without even thinking about it (or seeing the new movie) as small detail, which Ari wants me to inform you all that was the Gay Spirit flowing into me. Also please secure your wigs now because Tinashe is coming.
> 
> Many many thanks to [Izzie](https://redundantoxymorons.tumblr.com/) for betaing and checking Ari and I's mistakes! Ari did a ton of research for me for this fic, and made an aesthetic and chapter headers, and stayed up until 3 am several nights in a row just so we could call each other and write together.

Veronica has a way of sliding into a booth like she owns it. Actually, considering that this is Pop’s, she technically _does_. Betty thinks this particular grace has more to do with this being _their_ booth, though. Admittedly, it feels off to sit anywhere else but here, second table on the left, facing away from the door and tucked in next to Jughead.

Jughead has already ordered their food. After setting her bag down next to herself, Veronica immediately starts munching on her fries. (Jughead knows all of their usual orders, second only to Pop Tate himself, who seems to have all of them memorized.)

They forgo normal greetings, as head nods are enough these days.

“So this morning, after Archiekins went to work, one of my old friends called and we talked for _hours_!”

“Is that why you were late?” Jughead wonders aloud, immediately biting into his burger so he won’t have to apologize.

Veronica huffs while Betty slaps his shoulder. “I was only ten minutes late. And to answer your question, yes, it was. I haven’t caught up with them in a long time.”

Trying to make up for Jughead’s rude comment, Betty asks kindly, “What did you talk about?”

Her friend’s smile softens. “I told her all about Riverdale, and Archie of course. We talked a bit about college too– she’s a few years older than us, so she’s already been. Oh, and apparently she just got an amazing job offer overseas and wanted to call and tell me before she jets off to one of the Greek islands.”

Jughead takes another big bite.

Betty says, “That’s amazing! I’m sure she’s very excited.” _I know I would be_ , she thinks.

Veronica eats another fry and takes a sip of her milkshake, which has melted some since it arrived at the table. Veronica agrees. “She is. But you know what I thought was most interesting?”

Betty shakes her head, and Jughead shrugs. Betty can see clear as day that Jughead isn’t very invested in Veronica’s story, but she’s their friend, and he’s good at fooling her.

“She told me she did that fake marriage thing -- you know, where she married a friend who was going to the same school as her so they could get more financial aid?”

Jughead scoffs, and Betty finds herself making a similar noise. “Financial aid?” She repeats. As far as she knows, Veronica has no friends without some kind of money except for Jughead and the other Southsiders.

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, I have friends who aren’t millionaires! Aside from Jughead!” When they both stare at her blankly, she crosses her arms. “I met this particular friend in the subway station. She was sitting there, playing a guitar for money. I gave her some, ‘cause she was good, and then we got to talking, and became friends. She doesn’t have the same kind of money that I do, obviously.”

Jughead mmhmms, taking a long drink from his milkshake.

Betty, still not totally convinced on the story, asks, “So, she married a friend for financial aid? How’d that work?”

“I don’t know, I guess they give you more aid when you’re married and poor?” Veronica shrugs. “She told me that they had to share a room, of course, but the husband got a blow-up mattress, and they never did anything together. They had fake rings and all, but she didn’t change her name, they didn’t go on dates. It was basically just a marriage on paper.”

Unsure of how to respond, Betty clears her throat. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know, right? Apparently they had an ‘open marriage’, and they dated other people. I wonder if they ever took anyone home to the shared room,” Veronica muses. “Talk about awkward.”

Betty laughs, not nearly as naturally as she would have liked.

“And did they -- ?”

“ -- get a divorce, or an annulment, or something?” Jughead finishes, tilting his head a little to the side. Betty only notices because his (iconic, beyond reproach) beanie slides with the movement and he reaches up to adjust it. That’s the only reason. Yup.

Veronica nods. “Well, they never fucked, so they managed to get an annulment. She said it was like it never happened.”

“Wow,” Betty says, staring at her own plate of fries. She hasn’t eaten one since Veronica sat down, but she has a hard time eating and talking to Veronica at the same time, so they’re going cold.

She says something else, but all Betty hears is that it’s a different topic. She hears Jughead respond and checks out, reassured that Veronica won’t be talking to air.

Dipping a fry into her ketchup, she can’t help but think of her own college woes. With her dad out of the picture, Betty’s family doesn’t have the kind of money that can pay for college. There’s no Blossom money, or she’d use that. It all fell through when Cheryl got emancipated and Penelope got vindictive. So yeah, that’s not exactly an option. And even though Veronica swears she could pay for a year at NYU — “Let you save up some money the first year,” she says — Betty can’t accept it. It’s charity, it’s pity, and Betty cannot take either of those things right now, or ever. Also, she’s pretty sure Hiram Lodge hates her for what her mom writes in the paper.

There’s some money in her savings account, and in her college fund, but both have been dipped into over the years to make ends meet. Polly’s already planning on spending all of her savings and funds on the twins, and on the cult farm (though she refuses to admit it).

Grants and scholarships are only going to get Betty so far. As of right now, she’s paying much more out of pocket ( _future_ pocket, really, which makes her itch with anxiety) than not.

Her traitorous mind brings up the fact that just before Veronica was actually expected to be here, Jughead was telling her about his own problems. If Betty has little to no money, then he really has none. There’s no college fund set up for him, his savings from working at the Twilight are dwindling fast, and pretty much all other money he comes across has to go back to the Serpents. He has a few scholarships, but they’re not big ones, and financial aid is really one of his last options.

Betty eats another couple of fries, all definitely cold now.

Maybe there’s another option, for them both. It’s stupid, and he won’t agree to it, but…. It worked for Veronica’s friend, didn’t it? And Betty has seen The Proposal many times. If she had to answer questions about Jughead that only a wife would know, she thinks she could could manage it.

* * *

 

Betty, desperate to not sit in her big, empty home for hours until her mom gets home, asks Jughead if she can hang out with him. He’s already on his bike, watching as she looks in the direction of her house.

“Can I hang with you today?” She tries to give him her best Perfect Stepford Daughter smile, hoping that it’ll influence his answer.

He laughs softly at her smile and nods. “Yeah, of course. I’m just gonna be sitting around the trailer all day, though.”

“That’s fine,” she says, thanking God for her decision to wear pants this morning. “I assume you didn’t bring the other helmet?”

“No,” he says, a little apologetically, “But you can have mine?”

He hasn’t put it on yet, so he hands it over. She takes it despite her instant anxiety over him being without a helmet, and the affection that blooms hot in her chest. It’s sweet of him to keep her protected, but also a little harlequin, too. She mentally rolls her eyes at herself. He’s not giving her the helmet because he cares more about her safety than his own -- it’s because if Alice Cooper found out, she’d kill him.

Pulling it over her head is always a little difficult, and she worries about her makeup rubbing off on the material inside as she climbs onto the bike. This isn’t new -- he’s been riding it since he got his license, and he’s been giving her rides for just as long -- so she knows exactly where to put her legs. Wrapping her arms around him and holding tight isn’t any easier than usual, given that the very small crush that she refuses to admit to on solid ground (months ago, Archie joked that when someone says something Alice Cooper doesn’t like, she hears them because she always literally has an ear to the ground) is brought to the forefront of her mind.

Jughead turns the bike on and asks, “You okay?”

Shouting to be heard over the revv of the engine, she answers, “Yep!”

They shoot off, and Betty’s left to think about how every turn could easily be their last -- a semi will turn, too, and bam, they’ll be dead -- and also about the very small crush. It started soon after Archie turned her down. Jughead had been forgotten by Archie, too, and anyway, he used to be one of her best friends. It makes sense that they’d turn to each other when their mutual friend began to spend all of his time with first a mysterious girl, then Valerie, and then Veronica, who’s company he still prefers to theirs, even though he won’t admit it. (“No, I get it, Arch -- you’d rather kiss Veronica than do literally any other thing, like breathe or eat,” Jughead had said at the beginning of junior year, after an entire summer when they barely heard from him .)

For a little while, Betty had thought about acting on her near-constant need to just kiss the sarcastic smirk off his face. But then his mom and Jellybean had come back, and things were tense for a long time. When the dust cleared, Betty’s crush had gone from Defcon Level Ten to a solid five and a half. Anyway, Jughead has never expressed interest in anyone, other than saying that his single kiss with Joani Jummp had been “nice”. She’s pretty sure he’s asexual or at least on the spectrum -- meaning that he’s almost definitely not into her.

At a stoplight, Jughead says over his shoulder, “Little tight there, Betts.”

Without thinking, she lets go almost completely, sputtering out, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” _Was she squeezing too hard? Could he even breathe? Oh god, Betty, what are you doing?_

“No, no, it’s okay, you didn’t,” he consoles her, taking one of his hands off the handles to grab one of hers. Limply, she allows him to wrap her whole arm around him, his ribs cradled between her elbow and palm. Her other hand copies the movement without his intervention, only over his stomach. It’s...intimate, in a weird way. Betty feels all eighteen of her years. Jughead looks over his shoulder and meets her eyes. He says, voice tinged with something she can’t name, “Keep me safe, ‘kay?” and Betty’s heart stops then and there.

They race off as soon as Jughead’s righted himself.

No, he’s not very interested in anything except food, but she’ll be damned if he isn’t good at making Betty swoon.

It’s not much more of a drive to Sunnyside, but Betty counts every second , staring at Jughead’s beanie and trying desperately to concentrate on the way she holds him. He was joking, she knows that -- or thinks-- but still. It feels like her responsibility to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. Keep me safe, he’d said, and she’s never been one to ignore orders. _Not that it was an order,_ she thinks quickly, trying to justify it to herself. He also said “‘kay?’”. Definitely not an order.

Oh god, why is she overthinking everything today?

The poverty of Sunnyside is as astonishing as always, directly antithetical to the riches of the Northside. She’s good at hiding her reactions to it: A sense of bitter injustice that sits at the back of her throat and makes her feel sick, coupled with a genuine wish for things to be better. Tucked so close to Jughead, it’s easy to hide her face and close her eyes against it all.

It takes no time at all once they’ve entered the trailer park to get to the Jones’. FP’s truck is gone, a relief to them both, though Betty’s sure her reasoning is in no way similar to Jughead’s.

Cutting that thought off there, she waits a few seconds after the engine stops to get off. Not at all so she could keep holding Jughead. Nope. It’s because… because she wants to be safe. That’s why. Sighing at herself, she takes the helmet off, aware that her hair is all sorts of messed up now.

Jughead kicks the kickstand out and gets off, much more smoothly than Betty had. He grabs the helmet from her and tucks it under his arm like Archie does with a football. Together, they go up the steps, Betty behind him since he has the keys. While he searches for the right one and finally inserts it in the keyhole, Betty watches him. It’s not staring, or leering, it’s just watching. No thoughts attached to it for Alice Cooper to hear.

He heads to the kitchen while she heads to the bathroom. The mirror isn’t exactly clean, but it’s not dirty, either, and it certainly serves its purpose. It shows her that her hair is flat on top and a little sweaty. She curses, running her fingers through it and attempting to give it some life. When that only marginally works, she gives up, telling herself that it’s just Jughead, and Jughead has seen worse before.

Sometime while she was messing with her hair, Jughead moved to the couch in the living room. He spots her coming back, and smiles. “Look what I found on TV,” he says, sounding almost excitedly.

It’s High School Musical 2, and she recognizes easily that they’re about to go into “Fabulous”.

“I paused it so you could see it, too.”

Betty smiles widely at him, genuinely pleased. When he pats the couch next to him, she goes over and settles down, close enough that their shoulders touch but nothing else. His feet are up on the old coffee table, boots kicked off somewhere -- she slips her flats off and mimics him, resting one ankle over the other. He presses play, and as Sharpay goes into it, Betty wonders if he remembers her sixth birthday, only a few weeks after the movie originally came out, and she forced everyone who came to watch it. She’d told them all that “Fabulous” was her favorite song.

Of course, once it hits the chorus, she starts singing along. Jughead laughs freely, mumbling the parts he doesn’t remember and confidently joining her for the parts he does.

They watch the rest of the movie that way, sitting close but not too close and singing along to songs they barely know.

By the time the credits roll, Jughead has decided that he’s hungry. The third movie is queued, so he decides on popcorn. Betty stays reclined on the couch while he goes to make it, looking at the pictures on the wall rather than at his profile through the open shutters.

With nothing to focus on, her thoughts stray back to the fake marriage. She’s done lots of research on FAFSA, and she already knew that married people got more aid, but up until today it hadn’t meant anything to her. It probably still won’t, really, but… but she should ask. It’s a win-win situation. And she thinks she and Jughead can cohabitate -- they’ve never done it before, obviously, but they work well together. Sharing a dorm shouldn’t be too big of a stretch.

He returns with a bowl of popcorn, covered in salt and butter the way he likes it, and hands it to her. It’s warm in her lap, an odd sort of comfort, and when she pops a kernel into her mouth, she hums at how delicious it is.

“Good?” he asks with a wicked grin on his face.

“Mmhmm. Best popcorn in all of Riverdale.” He laughs at that, shaking his head. Suddenly, she has all the confidence she needs to say, “Hey, I was wondering something.”

“Yeah?”

“V’s friend’s story -- I’ve been thinking about it, and I know it’s silly, but it’s not that bad of an idea.”

“No, I guess not. It got them what they wanted, so really, it was a success.”

“Yeah. And I know _we_ were talking about how we’re gonna pay for college…,” she says, and watches his eyes widen with understanding about where she’s taking this. “It’s not that bad of an idea,” she repeats. “I mean, we’re friends. And like V said, they didn’t -- they never took it past friends. We could do it.”

He doesn’t say anything. Anxiety bubbles up inside her all over again, and in seconds, she’s sure that she’s crossed a line, _ruined_ this. Whatever this is. In a small voice, she adds, “Couldn’t we?”

Blinking, Jughead reaches out for a piece of popcorn. Clumsily, she shoves the bowl into the gap between their legs, which isn’t quite big enough to fit it.

He chews for an inordinately long time, or maybe she’s just imagining that. Finally, _finally_ , he says, “You’d -- you want to?”

She hears the _you’d do this for me?_ that he doesn’t say. She hears his own anxiety in the words, in the way his voice wavers the tiniest bit on ‘want’. “Well, yeah,” she tells him, “You seem like you’d make a great husband. Plus, I hear college guys are terrible people, so maybe they’ll stay away if I tell them I have a man, you know? A serious one.”

When she says ‘great husband’, Jughead’s adam’s apple visibly jumps. Every fantasy she’s ever had that included licking or sucking a hickey onto that part of him slams to the forefront of her mind. It’s a struggle to say the rest of the words.

“Now that you’ve said that, if I don’t say yes, I’ll be an asshole,” he complains, but his voice is weirdly (and only a small, tiny, basically incomprehensible amount) breathy. She thinks he’s joking. But it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Jug, I don’t want to force you to do it if you don’t want,” she says, and there’s a whole speech there, waiting to be said, waiting to go on and on until he says no once and for all.

He interrupts her though, and says, “Betty, I was just kidding. Of course I’ll do it.”

“You’ll marry me so we can trick the government into giving us money so we don’t die?”

He chuckles, and says, “Yes, I will. Or I do, I guess. The only question is, do you take my name or do I take yours?”

* * *

 

A few days later, during their free period, they go to Greendale on his bike. Jughead has two helmets this time, but Betty still clutches at him like she’s the only thing standing between him and certain death. Maybe she’s just dreaming it, but he doesn’t seem to mind her fingernails curling into his shirt. In fact, she thinks she sees a smile.

Archie and Veronica follow them in Veronica’s Mercedes-Benz 2018 AMG G65 (she knows the whole title since she’s the only mechanic who ever works on it, plus she knows that Veronica named it Poppy for its dark orange color). Yesterday, Betty and Jughead had sat them down in a wooded campground, far from any ears that could report back to their parents, and told them their plan. Get married, and stay that way all through college in order to help with financial aid. Not take each other’s names, so they could look at their diplomas and not see the wrong name, and obviously not consummate the marriage.

The courthouse is small, only slightly bigger than Riverdale’s. No one there recognizes them, though, and that’s what matters. She knows that, eventually, this will get around to her mom, but for now, it’s just her best friends watching as they apply for a wedding license. Betty writes that her name is Elizabeth Mary Cooper, born September 13th, 2000, in Riverdale, Chautauqua County, New York State. She’s 18 years old, and has been for a grand total of seven months and five days (not that they ask that).

She peers over Jughead’s shoulder and watches him write that his name is Forsythe Pendleton Jones III, born October 2nd, 2000, in Riverdale, Chautauqua County, New York State. He’s 18 years old and has been for a grand total of six months and sixteen days.

Their addresses are different, and she wonders if they’ll be asked about it. She doesn’t ask what he thinks, though, sensing that he’s not in the mood to talk.

They’re sitting next to each other, and Betty’s leaning closer to him, avoiding the eyes of the secretary, everyone else that walks through, and most of all, their friends. Their friends who don’t really approve, but came along anyway, so they wouldn’t have to be alone.

It’s sweet, except for the fact that Veronica is giving her a Look™. Last night, she’d texted Betty, _what happens when your mom finds out you got the idea from me???_

Betty doesn’t know. She isn’t exactly thinking that far ahead right now. And some small part of her almost blames Veronica for this whole thing, even though she knows that’s silly. This is her idea, it was just sparked by Veronica telling her friend’s story. Still, Veronica’s attitude about it -- plain dislike, sighs and eye rolls, her toe-tapping impatience -- is getting on Betty’s nerves.

Before either one of them can say anything, Betty jumps to her feet and takes both her and Jughead’s clipboards to the front desk. When she sits back down, she pulls out her phone and ignores all the texts from Kevin wondering where they were. She feels bad that he’s not here -- he’s one of her best friends, after all -- but she knows how he’d feel about this, and it’s safe to say that that’s _not well_.

 _This is illegal, Betty,_ he’d say, _and your crush on him will not get any better if you’re literally married to him!_ She can picture him sitting on her bed, arms up in the air with facetious frustration.

Jughead sighs and leans back in his seat.

“You okay?” She asks, peering at him over her phone.

He gives her a smile, a thin one, and she can see the tiredness in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. Just ready to go home and eat.”

“We’ll stop by Pop’s before we go back to school,” she assures.

“Aww, thanks. Already doing your wifely duties.”

“How am I doing so far?”

He laughs. “You’re doing great, Betts.”

“There’s no need to act,” Veronica says, a little snide. She’s staring at them. Betty can read in her eyes that she’s gonna demand they talk at some point. “You aren’t married yet.”

Jughead tips his head. “Practice makes perfect, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve been practicing for what, ten years?” She quirks her eyebrows. “It’s like you’ve been waiting for this your whole life.”

He shrugs, and quietly enough only they hear, he jokes, “In the three business days I’ve been engaged to Betty here, she’s made me the happiest man in all of Riverdale.”

“Oh yeah?” Archie asks, smirking. “How so?”

Betty blushes, well aware of what he’s implying. “Archie -- “

“She made me a pie,” Jughead says, voice a little harder than before. “What were you thinking, Arch?”

Archie clenches his jaw, sighing and rolling his eyes. “Jug, I’m just saying, have you guys thought this through?”

“Kinda too late for that, isn’t it?” Betty says.

“We’re looking out for you,” Veronica defends, sitting up straighter. “If you’re caught -- “

“We won’t be -- “

“Elizabeth Cooper and Forsythe Jones?” A lady asks, walking towards them, the only people in the room. She’s got their papers in her hands. “The judge will see you now.”

An hour later, they’re sitting outside Pop’s, hideously late for class but so hungry they just don’t care. And Betty is a married woman.

* * *

 

Settled in at the dinner table, Betty groans and drags her hands through her hair, roots to ends. It’s down, and stress is keeping her from putting it up. It’s too much work to keep it in a ponytail and looking perfect, and anyway, it’s just Jughead and he’s seen her look worse. The Great Tetherball Incident of ‘07 comes to mind, and she shudders. Yeah, he’s seen worse. A _lot_ worse.

Jughead himself looks good, since he’s without his usual layers. His beanie is somewhere she’s never seen it before -- not on his head. The shirt he’s wearing is still long sleeved, although the weather is getting warmer, but it’s thin enough that she doesn’t think he’s overheating. When he came in, she couldn’t help but notice his chinos and how well they fit him. She can’t see them now, hidden as they are by the table, but she can picture them.

Betty’s in her more dressy (according to herself, not Alice Cooper) pajamas, the ones with the phrase “Let Me Sleep” on the shirt under a pair of closed eyes, and a cute pattern of the same eyes on the shorts. He’d commented on them when he came in, saying they were cute, and asking jokingly, “Did I wake you?”

They’ve been married for two weeks. The only people who know are Archie and Veronica, who thankfully have mellowed out a little as they see that nothing has really changed. They still aren’t happy about it, but there’s nothing to be done about that. Also, Betty’s a lot more concerned with the fact that she can look at Jughead and think, _he’s my husband_ , and it’s not just a fantasy.

Not that she’s ever had a fantasy about that.

But it’s a nice thought.

 _Jughead has been a good husband,_ she thinks, glaring down at the financial aid papers in front of her. Nothing really has changed, except that when they go to Pop’s without their friends, they sit next to each other instead of across the table, and they hang out more often. Every day. They hang out every day.

And last night, they’d decided that he’d come over so they could talk about FAFSA and their plans for money while Alice is at work.

They’ve been at it for a few hours by now, using an online calculator to figure out numbers. The two of them taking one semester each at NYU, staying in a dorm room, and all that -- that’ll cost just upwards of $70,000. After subtracting everything FAFSA’s going to cover, they’re left with about $26,500 coming out of their own pockets.

The scholarships they started applying to back in late September are providing some relief there -- Jughead has two big scholarships, while Betty has only managed to secure one medium sized one. She does the math by hand, preferring it over using her phone, subtracting the amounts of their scholarships from the left over $26,500.

“So, we’ll be paying about 12k on our own?” Jughead asks, peering at the paper.

With a sigh, Betty tries not to panic about that. “Yeah. That’s… wow, $992.75 a month.” It makes sense, of course, that almost 12k divided by twelve months would be about a thousand a month, but it’s still shocking. And upsetting. Very, very upsetting.

Jughead sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Fuck, that’s a lot. What’s that split?”

She does the math and tells him, though he can see it easily, “‘Bout 500 dollars apiece.”

“We really need to figure out jobs.”

“Yes, we do.”

There’s barely a month left until school ends, and then several more until they leave for NYU, so they can’t figure out jobs just yet. But they look at their options and decide which ones they’ll apply for once it’s closer.

Betty pinpoints several garages and bakeries she wouldn’t mind working at, and more mainstream places like Starbucks. Jughead is largely uninterested in many of the jobs on the listing, though he makes interested noises when they come across a spot in the post office as a mailman.

“That would be fun,” he says, eyes lit up in a way she doesn’t see very often. “Just sitting in a big mail van all day, driving around and sorting stuff out? Knocking and running back to the van before anyone can even get up to get the door? Doing that every single day? Multiple times?”

Betty smiles at him, amused by his joking tone.

Her eyes move to his hands, which he’s gesturing with. On his right ring finger, he’s wearing the ring she got him. It’s just a simple golden band, the date of April 18th, 2018 engraved on the inside. It was cheap enough for Betty to be able to afford it, and nice enough that it looks convincing. Veronica had paid for the engraving as a wedding present, saying it “makes this scheme look more real -- what kind of married couple doesn’t have an engraving?”

The past few times she’s seen him, he wasn’t wearing it. She hasn’t worn hers yet except in the dead of night, long after Alice had gone to bed, peering at the way the moonlight shone on the small diamond. It’s a beautiful ring, also cheap, also just nice enough to pass for real, also with the engraving. When she puts it on, it makes her heart flutter with pure want. She wants it to be real with Jughead -- wants the ring to symbolize their love for each other.

Seeing him wear his causes her cheeks to heat up. It’s so small, and it’s not even on the correct finger, which she knows he’s doing to avoid suspicion, but it doesn’t matter. He looks different with it on, beautiful and older, and all hers.

Her husband.

 _Oh god,_ she thinks, watching his mouth move as he keeps talking. _He’s my husband. Holy shit. He’s. My. Husband._

How is she ever going to survive this?

* * *

Graduation is spent with him and their friends. Her mom comes by but feels out of place, or nervous, or something. Whatever it is, it causes her leave early, leaving Betty to hang out with Jughead, Veronica, Archie, Kevin, Cheryl, and Toni, Cheryl’s so-called _cherie_. Betty’s never met her before, but she’s heard a lot of good things.

Toni finds the whole affair entertaining if not slightly uncomfortable. That’s mostly because of Archie making comments about their “previous engagement” and other dumbass innuendos about their marriage. Kevin, Cheryl, and Toni have no idea still, so all the tension between Archie, Veronica, Betty, and Jughead is lost on them.

At one point, Cheryl says, “Hobo, Bride of Hobo, what in the name of Tan France is going on with you heteros?”

Betty and Jughead stand stunned, immediately looking at each other in panic. Yeah, Cheryl’s been calling them Hobo and Bride of Hobo for years, but those words are suddenly true. Have they been outed? Did Veronica or Archie tell her? Did she notice Jughead’s ring? Or is she just saying their old nicknames?

Archie asks, “You _told_ them?”

“Told us what?” Kevin glances between the four of them, an eyebrow raised.

“That Betty and Jughead got married for -- “

“For love!” Veronica interrupts, throwing an arm out in front of Archie. “They got married for love.”

At once, Kevin, Cheryl, and Toni turn to Betty and Jughead and gay out. That is to say, Kevin gasps and throws a hand up to his chest, clutching at non-existent pearls. “Elizabeth Cooper,” he cries, “You got married and didn’t tell me about it?”

Betty attempts to shush him, eyes flying around to all the people who could’ve overheard. If anyone knows anything, it’ll get back to Alice Cooper, no doubt about it.

“You had a wedding and didn’t invite _moi_ , your favorite cousin?”

Toni just laughs. “Really? You and him?” She gives them both a once over, making Betty feel distinctly uncomfortable. But then Toni breaks the mood by offering Jughead a fist bump and saying, “Good job, dude.”

Despite the fact that their situation has gone from complicated to catastrophic, Jughead laughs, returning the gesture. And despite herself, Betty can’t help but notice how cute it is.

“Thanks,” he says, and then slings an arm over Betty’s shoulders. She falls into his side easily, watching the faces of their friends. Archie’s flushed, while Veronica is glaring at him and Betty. Toni’s got an easy smile on her face, but Cheryl and Kevin look upset.

She opens her mouth to say something, anything, that can rectify this but then Archie asks belatedly, “Wait, who’s Tan France?”

At once, everyone else sighs at him, and Kevin launches into a spiel about the wonders of Queer Eye.

Betty manages to pull Jughead away from the group, ostensibly for refreshments, while Archie asks why any self respecting straight guy would want to be made over by five gay guys. Once they’re out of view, she starts to panic. “What are we going to do, Juggie? They think we’re in love now. Are we gonna have to start going on dates? Asking them to cover for us? Oh god, am I gonna have to tell Kevin about all the sex we’re _not_ having?”

Jughead blinks momentarily, then gently grabs her hands out of the air and holds them to his chest. “Betty, calm down, calm down. It’s fine. Veronica saved us, and now we’re gonna just have to act. Okay? We just have to play our parts a little earlier than we thought we would. Also… do you and Kevin really talk about that?”

Her cheeks heat up as she recalls all the times she’s talked to Kevin about much worse things. “Uh, yeah. But if you’re not comfortable with that -- ?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he blurts, “I just -- I mean, whatever makes it most realistic. Do what you’ve gotta do, Betts.”

“Okay.”

“At least try to make me sound good, okay?”

Betty laughs, grateful for his jokes. He’s pulled her out of another anxiety attack. When this is all over -- and it will be, eventually, when they go their separate ways or when it becomes too awkward to withstand -- she’s really going to miss that.

“Of course, Juggie.”

The next weekend finds her at Thistlehouse, Cheryl, Toni, Veronica, and Kevin at her side for “girls’ and Kevin” night, all looking at her intently.

“We’ve reached the part of the night where you spill, dear cousin.” Cheryl sounds downright devious, her iconically evil grin splitting her face.

“So?” Kevin demands, bouncing excited. “How is it?”

Veronica crosses her arms. “You’ve done it, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah of course we’ve done it,” Betty answers, willing herself to sound like she’s assured of this. The farthest she and Jughead have ever gone is a kiss under a mistletoe when they were twelve years old. There was also that time when they were fifteen, wasted on booze Archie had stolen from his dad, and Jughead kissed her until she couldn’t see straight. He’d forgotten it the next day, and they never spoke about it again.

“ _Well_ ?” Kevin says again, chorused by Toni’s, “Come on girl, you gotta have more than _that_!”

Betty blushes. “It was very… _nice_ ,” she decides on. If there’s one thing she’s sure of, it’s that having sex with Jughead would be, at the very least, _nice_ , so it’s easy to say that part. The rest? Not so much. “And he was very gentle. We took our time. It was good. _Great_ , even. And that’s all I’m saying.”

“Oh, Betty, please, tell them about that time you spent the night in the trailer, and you could barely walk the next day!” Veronica’s faux excited, clapping her hands together to get the others interested. It’s not like that’s very hard, though.

“Oh yes, _do_ ,” Cheryl purrs.

Betty glares at Veronica, blurting out, “I told you about that in confidence, Ronnie! Jesus! You know Jug doesn’t like it when I talk about that stuff.”

Kevin, without saying a single word, puts his hands up about three inches apart. His eyebrow is raised to his hairline. Betty just stares at him as he pulls his hands apart more, confused until his mouth drops open, and she suddenly gets it.

His hands are at least a foot and a half apart when he cries out, “ _Really_? No fucking way!”

Betty yelps, reaching out to push his hands down. “Kevin! Oh my god! I’m not telling you how -- how _long_ he is!”

“Betty, please, we won’t tell anyone -- “

“It’s for science, Betty,” Toni adds, whining.

“Yes, as my _cherie_ says, cousin. For science.”

Veronica doesn’t say anything, as she’s too busy cracking up, enjoying the show she forged.

“He’s very -- very -- very _capable_ ,” she stutters out.

“That’s not an answer.” Kevin puts his hands up again, pouting and begging her with puppy dog eyes for her to play along.

Despite her better judgement, Betty stops his hands at about seven inches.

Cheryl makes a congratulatory face. “Good for you, cousin. Get that dick.”

For the rest of the night, she has to dodge way too many questions about it. When she tells Jughead about it the next day, he laughs and laughs. “It’s more like eight and half, but who’s counting?” He winks, and Betty slaps at him, giggling madly.

“Don’t joke.”

Jughead just laughs some more, completely unaware that he’s just given Betty all kinds of vivid images that will occupy her thoughts for the rest of the summer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Betty's pajamas](https://img.shein.com/images/shein.com/201705/d0/14961416791089962980_thumbnail_600x.jpg)
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> Please comment, Ari and I will love you forever <3


	2. YEAR ONE – PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty and Jughead move into their new apartment (it gets awkward), Cheryl and Toni can't stop using other people's furniture to sin, Veronica's thirsty, Kevin's frustrated and gay, Archie's just confused, naturally hijinks ensue. 
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> Featuring Crackheads and Old Gay Grandmas.
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> Oh and couples costumes galore.
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> OR
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> Aries and Dottie are tired, gay and have absolutely no self-control.

Alice Cooper’s lips are turned down as Betty steps out of the car in front of the U-Haul building. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you get settled in?” she asks, a thread of warning running through her voice. It’s a question, but she definitely means it as an order.

Betty only has a backpack and two duffle bags. One of them is a lot heavier than the other, full of books, makeup, and kitchen stuff, but Betty does her best to not let Alice see that. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m an adult now, I don’t need you to help me with this.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

Alice hums discontentedly. “Well, I love you, Elizabeth. Call me when you’re done unpacking.”

“Love you too, Mom,” she says and watches as Alice pulls away from the curb and drives away, finally headed back to Riverdale. Relief cascades over Betty immediately. She loves her mom, of course, she does, but the proximity to Jughead and where they’ll actually be staying – a two-bedroom loft apartment in 3rd Avenue North – is stressing her out. Alice and FP still have no idea that they’re married, purely based on luck, and they would surely be unhappy to say the least.

Five minutes later, Betty’s still thinking about it as she steps into 3rd Ave. It’s the North Tower, made of brick like the other two, and just as tall. Somehow, they’ve managed to snag a room on the top floor, with a much better view than Betty had ever hoped for.

Jughead is waiting for her in the lobby, already settled in. FP didn’t come, so he got a ride from Fred, who was taking Archie to Julliard. He’d also been dropped off in front of U-Haul, though sometime before Betty and Alice came upon it.

It’s nice to see a familiar face here in New York, nice to have someone she knows so close by, even though she knows Cheryl, Toni, and Josie will all be at U-Hall. Josie’s rooming with Val and Melody in one of the “efficiency dorms” meant for three people, while Cheryl and Toni are sharing a similarly styled apartment to Betty and Jughead’s. Toni joked when she found out that’s where they’d all be staying, “I mean, we are very, very, _very_ gay. It’s only right.” When Veronica and Kevin heard that, they’d lost their shit. Veronica and Kevin themselves share an amazingly lavish apartment off Broadway, that she only afford because of her money from Pop’s. Betty’s maybe a little bitter about it, despite the fact that she said no to all of Veronica’s offers.

“Hey, Betts,” he greets, reaching a hand out to grab the heavier bag. It gets slung over his shoulder easily, his other hand taking hers. Last night, through text, they decided to start the acting early. _Everyone_ needs to be convinced, even the people they pass by in the lobby.

“How’s the room looking?” She looks up at him, barely watching where she’s going as they head for the elevator. She trusts him to keep her safe, to make sure she doesn’t bump into anyone. Also, her stomach is flip-flopping with the claim she has over him – fake as it is, no one around them knows that. They think he’s hers. That he’s unavailable to them.

Stop thinking about this, he tells herself. _You’re just going to get your hopes up for nothing. He’s not yours, not really. You’ll just end up hurt._

A small part of herself wonders if maybe – just maybe – he’s thinking about the same thing, that she’s his, that she’s unavailable too. But again, that’s not true, it can’t be. They’re just friends helping each other out. That’s all.

“It’s great! A lot better than it looks in the pictures, actually. I already have my stuff up there, ready to be unpacked. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone when you got here. It’s pretty scary, how many strangers there are here,” he laughs, like he’s not making her heart race with how adorable and, well, hot he is. She never thought that she’d want someone to be so protective of her, but he wears it well.

“How sweet of you,” she jokes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck.

“I know.” He sighs dramatically, laughing again when he notices the look on her face.

The elevator ride isn’t terribly long, but their banter makes it go by even quicker. He strides ahead of her to their apartment, and she hurries after him to catch up with him. He puts the key in the lock and turns, starting to say, “Welcome to our humble abode,” but Betty, in her infinite awkwardness, runs right into him.

Like in a movie, they fall to the floor, her bags dropping. She ends up with her face in his chest, knees between his legs and arms on either side of his.

The first thing she notices is that he smells wonderful. It’s a mix of coffee and new books. Probably because of all their textbooks, most of which are _not_ new, but somehow, the scent is clear as day on his clothes.

The second thing she notices is that they are in a very compromising position. His hands are on her waist. _Oh god, HIS HANDS ARE ON MY WAIST._

She pushes herself up with her hands, palms smarting against the rough carpet, stuttering, “I’m – Jughead, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – are you okay?”

“This shouldn’t happen out here, don’t you think, Betts?” He replies, wincing.

Betty sits up, unable to cull the flaming blush on her cheeks as she realizes what he’s implying. Also that she’s _sitting between his legs_ , _very near to where his_  –

“Jughead! Stop it,” she whines.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m fine. It’s probably just a bump. The beanie’s gonna cover it anyway.” He sits up, but doesn’t move his legs, _or his hands_. “Are you okay, though?

She blinks. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. For a long moment, she takes stock of herself. Her knees ache from landing, and her palms, but – “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

The way his eyebrows furrow tell her he doesn’t quite believe her. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she says again, “You broke most of my fall. I’m good.”

He smiles, small but maybe _proud_? Like he’s proud of himself. Whatever it is, she likes it on him. She likes all of his smiles.

“Well, good.” His hands finally disengage when she pulls back, one flying to the back of his head. He winces when he touches it and says, mostly to himself, “Shit, that’s tender.”

Betty stands abruptly, glad she’s wearing leggings today instead of her customary skirt. Her backpack needs to be readjusted, but she doesn’t do it, instead, reaching for his hands. With her help, he stands too.

For a long, long second, they stare into each other’s eyes, and Betty thinks, _Kiss me kiss me KISS ME_. Then he blinks, clears his throat, and their hands drop.

The key is still in the door. In short order, it’s turned, and then the door is open and Betty can’t focus on anything but their new home for the next four years.

There’s a small entryway, with an open door leading to steps going down to the left and a door leading somewhere to the right. Jughead grabs her bags for her – and she knows she shouldn’t make him, not after she literally ran into him and got him hurt, but she wants to see the rest of the apartment. Her bags aren’t something she’s concerned with right now.

Through the door on their right is a bare-bones living space, with a tiny kitchen and a nook by the windows that looks very comfortable. She can work with the kitchen, and she’s going to call dibs on the nook immediately. The walls are a boring white with strips of exposed brick against the outside wall, but she read online that they can use painter’s tape to hang things up. She’ll start on that ASAP – there desperately needs to be more life in here. Thankfully, they already have plans to go to IKEA and get bookshelves for her and Jughead’s combined impressive literary collections.

The couch doesn’t look terribly comfortable, but she can make that work, too, with a good throw pillow or two. There’s no TV, but they both have laptops, so that’s no big deal. If they need any entertainment beyond Netflix, the renovated cellar of the building is a rec center with a dance studio and lounges, plus a little cafe.

Jughead sets the heavier of her bags down on the couch, and gestures toward the steps. “The bedroom’s down there.”

She leads the way, hooking her thumbs in the straps of her backpack instead of holding onto the railing. As she rounds the corner, she is met with an open space with two desks near the wall, on opposite sides of a door, presumably leading to the bedroom. The windows lead to a fire escape. There’s an oddly stained rug on the floor, which she immediately decides to get rid of. She steps over it gingerly, wincing when she hears it crunch under her feet.

Glancing up, she sees a sliver of the kitchen, and the back of the heinous couch. It is a loft, after all.

Jughead asks, “Which desk do you want? I wanted to wait….” He doesn’t finish the thought, instead, moving towards her. He frowns at the crunch of the rug too, but doesn’t say anything about it.

His sudden proximity makes her hurriedly chose the one on the right. “You can have that one,” she says, gesturing to the one closer to the windows. There’s more natural light, and she thinks, _I should’ve picked that one_ , her stomach sinking. It’s too late, though.

“Actually, I sorta wanted the other one. You know how I feel about sunlight, given the whole “I’m a vampire” thing,” he teases.

He knows he’s being considerate, if the way he’s smiling that same smile from earlier is any indication. It’s not like she minds, though. Who is she to say no to him?

“Oh, well… thanks! Now, let’s see this bedroom.”

She knows there’s only one bed. They talked about it already. They argued about him sleeping on the floor, or the couch. She fought for him not to, and not even because she desperately wants to know what it’s like to wake up next to him, but because this is his apartment, too. He deserves to be comfortable here.

When she opens the door, though, it suddenly becomes very real that they’ll be _sharing a bed_. It’s queen sized, with linens provided. Betty brought her own, and urged Jughead to as well, since they can’t be sure that the old ones are actually clean. His bags are already on the bed, but they’re at the end, not taking up one side or the other.

She heads right for the left side of it, setting her backpack down in front of the nightstand. Jughead drops her duffle on the bed next to his, and tugs his own over to the right.

For the next few hours, they unpack their clothes, toiletries, and books. They were told to bring kitchen stuff, so Betty’s brought the bare essentials. She puts them away while Jughead sets up the coffee machine Veronica gave them, joking that it was another wedding gift.

For dinner, they go to the cafe, and Jughead eats five of their muffins before declaring that he doesn’t like them – they’re too hard – and then eats another three. “For science, Betty,” he tells her as he starts in on his ninth muffin.

Betty eats two bear claws before she finds herself full. Still, she drinks her large hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, the kind her mom would never let her even _look_ at. Jughead has one, too, but it’s going cold in the face of the too hard muffins.

When they get back up to their room, they decide to head to bed without saying a word.

The bathroom is upstairs, with one sink and a tub with a showerhead. Her makeup is stashed in one corner of the vanity, filling up several small bags, and their toothbrushes are on the other side. Quickly, she goes through her nighttime routine of washing and moisturising her face, peeing, and brushing her teeth. She decides that tomorrow she’ll try out the shower and see how the water pressure is.

When she exits, Jughead is sitting on the couch, probably looking at Twitter if his face is any indication. He looks up when the door opens, standing and saying a small “Thanks,” as she lets him pass her.

Betty heads to their room, dragging her fingers along her desk as she passes by it. (Don’t get her started on walking barefoot on the rug that she is, unfortunately, _not_ allowed to get rid of, as per the RA on this floor.)

There’s a standing lamp in the corner of the room providing minimal light. It’s not much at all, and since the lights upstairs are turned off too, the room is pretty dark. Though part of her still recoils from it, she figures it’s a good thing. Jughead sleeps shirtless, and Betty’s already positive that it’ll be impossible to share the bed while maintaining her cool – seeing his chest, too? She’ll combust, surely.

She doesn’t think about how Jughead will feel, seeing her in her own pajamas. However, she does recall the conversation they’d had about this – “Just so you know, I’m not wearing my bra to bed,” Betty had said, in a foul mood from a conversation she’d had with her father. But then, realizing how she sounded, she’d added, “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“I would never – “ Jughead had spluttered. “I don’t expect you to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Leaving it off as she changes doesn’t feel weird at the start. But then she hears him making noises upstairs – in the kitchen, maybe? – and it hits like a meteorite that she’s going to be sorta naked while in bed with Jughead. Who she is most definitely crushing on (Alice Cooper is too far away to hear this, probably. Hopefully).

When he comes into the room, wearing what looks like flannel pajama pants cut to be shorts, Betty’s already under the covers. Also, her childhood nightlight is plugged into the wall above her phone charger.

He smiles at it and opens his mouth to talk. No mocking comes. Instead, he says, “That really adds to the feel of the place.”

Betty can’t find it in herself to joke around, too nervous to think of a comeback. “I just – it’s dark in here.”

Jughead pulls the sheets and blanket down on his side. He looks at her for a moment, wheels visibly turning in his head. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “It’s fine, Betts.” Then he slides in, wrapping himself up in the blankets despite the last vestiges of summer heat clinging to everything, even their room.

The bed is big enough that there’s a sliver of space between them. She can feel the heat of his body. A shiver runs down her spine, and she wonders desperately, _What was I thinking when I came up with this stupid idea?_

“Goodnight, Betts.”

“Goodnight, Juggie.”

* * *

Betty’s dreams are full of her mom, dressed up like a circus ringleader. Veronica is there, too, and so are her other friends, though she can’t remember what roles they played in the circus when she wakes up. She remembers Jughead though – he’s a flying elephant, just like Dumbo but hungrier.

It’s sunlight that wakes her, streaming in from their windows. She’s on the left of the bed, on the same side of the room as her new desk, which happens to be facing east. Her first thought is that they’re going to have to invest in some damn blackout curtains.

Her second thought is that there’s an arm wrapped around her waist. An arm that’s far too muscular to be Veronica’s.

Something clicks, and she realizes it’s Jughead – but then she thinks, _it’s Jughead_.

She’s seen all the romance movies, read all the stories. The two of them cuddling like this has been on her mind for about a year and a half now, but especially since it was decided that they’d sleep in one bed. Last night, just before she’d fallen asleep, she’d tried to order herself not to touch him during the night.

Clearly she hasn’t managed that.

Betty groans, berating herself. She takes stock of everything around her, first the wall and the blinds, then the fact that she’s somehow pushed the comforter down, but that the sheets are still wrapped tightly around her. Her breasts are thankfully contained in her shirt – she’s never wearing a tank top to bed here. Never.

Jughead’s arm is around her waist, wrist loosely pressed to her belly button. His body is completely aligned with hers, his chest to her back, knees tucked in behind hers, and – Jesus Christ – is that?

It is. Fuck, it is.

 _It’s perfectly normal,_ she rationalizes. He’s a healthy, young male – man – guy – person, and it’s completely normal for him to have an erection in the morning. It just… shows good circulation. Yeah. That.

She attempts to pull away from him, attempts to lift his arm. He only tightens his grip, though, fingers curling under her side and tugging her closer like she’s his teddy bear. Her ass is pressed _way_ too close to his hips.

“Jughead.”

He doesn’t respond but cuddles her even more. Betty thinks, _Oh god, he’s a cuddler. I’m going to die._

“Jughead,” she says, louder.

“Mmm?”

“ _Jughead_.”

He wakes up then, his breathing picking up a little bit. For a second, neither of them move, and then he’s pulling away. She rolls over to face him.

They make eye contact.

It’s awkward. She can practically hear Kevin cringing from Broadway.

He’s blushing, so badly she can _see_ it, and there’s heat in her own cheeks. Not even because of his uh, situation, but because she _liked_ it. She wants him close again. She wants to feel him like that under different circumstances, better ones.

“Betty, I’m – I’m sorry,” he says, looking panicked.

She laughs faintly, trying to make it seem like no big deal. “It’s fine, Jug. It happens. I’m gonna have to get used to it, probably. I mean – uh, we should shower. Um, not together, obviously one after the other. I can go first? Or you? I don’t want to take up all the hot water, or maybe cold would be better for you?” _Why the fuck did I just – ?_ “I’m just gonna shut up now...”

He blinks at her.

Betty blinks back.

The awkward silence drags on. Jughead breaks it by loudly saying, “So, breakfast? Why don’t you go get some, and I’ll just – ?”, pointing his thumb up to the bathroom.

“Yeah! Yeah, okay,” Betty responds, still flustered, and then they’re both out of the bed. He speed-walks upstairs, while she stays down so she can change.

All the while, she looks at the bed and dreads the next night, when they’ll do it all over again.

* * *

They go out after breakfast to apply for their jobs, still feeling the tension from the morning. Betty’s thoughts have swung wildly between inappropriate images of how Jughead dealt with it and demands that she _stop thinking about it_.

They walk side by side to a garage called Jeffree’s Auto Repair, which is a seventeen minute walk that takes them through NYU’s campus. And Betty knows that for sure, because they barely talk for all grueling seventeen minutes of it. At one point, Toni texts Jughead, asking to meet up with them. “When should I say is good?”

“Uh, maybe an hour and a half?”

“Gotcha.”

And that’s about the extent of it.

Betty’s fingers are pressed into her palms, not breaking the skin but keeping her focused on something other than the pit in her stomach. Part of it is because of Jughead, and this morning, but even more than that, she really wants to get this job. Before they even left Riverdale, Betty emailed Jeffree about getting an interview, and he’d seemed friendly enough, but there’s sort of a lot banking on this.

She’s getting worked up, thinking of all the ways this could go wrong. What if she says the wrong thing? What if her experience isn’t enough? What if they don’t actually need a new employee? What if – ?

Even though things are awkward between them, Jughead slips his hand into hers, prying her nails away from her palm.

When they walk in, he’s still holding her hand. And when they walk out half an hour later, Betty no longer jobless, his fingers are still curled in hers.

Their hands drop when they get to the street, and Betty tells herself fruitlessly to stop missing his touch.

They head back in the opposite direction to go to the post office where Jughead already has a job waiting for him. The fact that it’s part time but still has some decent benefits makes it a lot more appealing than a job at the nearest McDonald’s.

The walk there from Jeffree’s is close to forty minutes long. Betty can’t stand the awkwardness anymore, and says, “I know what happened this morning was… weird, but we should just put it past us and move forward.”

“You’re right.” Jughead nods, glancing side long at her. “We – “

“I mean, eventually, I’m gonna get my period, and we’ll have to deal with that too.” She laughs in an attempt to stop her word vomit.

“Yeah, but I don’t know, that’s less…. I mean, you can’t really help that.”

“You can’t help it either, though.”

He flushes. “Yeah, I guess.”

A guy coming down the street towards them catches Betty’s eye, and she immediately realizes that he’s a crackhead. The way he’s walking, his eyes, the fact that he looks like he’s literally a dead man walking, all support her suspicions. Alice Cooper has voiced many worries about this and freaked Betty out so badly that she clings to Jughead as they get closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but still tucks her closer to his side.

In a whisper, she points out the guy to him.

Jughead casts his eyes over the guy, before saying softly in her ear, “I won’t let him hurt you, Betts.”

As the crackhead passes by without incident, Betty finds herself feeling more safe than she has in a long time. And it’s all thanks to Jughead Jones.

* * *

Toni and Cheryl’s room has a similar layout to Betty and Jughead’s, except that it’s ten times better decorated. Somehow, the walls they were explicitly told not to alter are black, which contrasts nicely with all of the cherry red furniture. Any and all accents are green, including the throw blanket Jughead sits on for five seconds before Cheryl says, “We’ve fucked on that, hobo.”

“How?” he demands. “It’s been a day. A _day_.”

She just shrugs. ”Don’t act like you and my dear cousin haven’t christened some part of your new home.”

Betty, realizing that she can’t let Cheryl think she and Jughead aren’t having sex, laughs and says, “Well yeah, but is that any of your business?”

“I mean, aren’t you supposed to tell Veronica, who’ll tell Kevin, who’ll tell _literally_ everyone he meets?” Toni asks, smirking.

“I don’t tell Ronnie everything.”

“So you told her about Juggie here fucking you so hard you couldn’t walk, but you won’t tell her about your presumably vanilla missionary sex in your new bed?”

Betty blushes beet red, and studiously does not look in Jughead’s direction. “Jesus, Toni.”

“What? I’m just saying….”

“It _is_ suspicious, cousin,” Cheryl says, “However, I love knowing things before Veronica, so I don’t give a damn about how odd it is.”

Jughead exhales through his nose and heads to their kitchen, which is somehow made of chrome and marble. There’re several appliances, all top of the line. He heads straight for the fridge, though, and pulls out the milk. Then he goes to the pantry and pulls out a box of Fruity Pebbles.

“Don’t touch that, hobo!” Cheryl follows him quickly.

Toni flops onto the couch, arms loosely crossed over her stomach. “Come, sit.” Betty does, trying to touch as little of the throw blanket as she can. Toni laughs at her. “So, are things – ?”

“Actually, I kinda wanted to talk about you and Cheryl.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. How’re you two doing?”

“I just want you to know, you’re not nailing this overprotective cousin thing, or hiding the fact that you’re deflecting, but I don’t care. I love talking about hashtag Choni.”

They both laugh at that. Kevin is way too good at making up ship names – though Betty sort of hates the one he came up with for her and Jughead. Bughead? Seriously? He knows how much she hates bugs, and probably did it on purpose. Why not Jetty or something?

“We’re doing great. Things have been a little hectic, getting all this stuff in here, but I’m not supposed to tell you what happened there or it’ll ruin the magic.” She rolls her eyes. “Cheryl’s been taking the U-Haul joke a _little_ too far. Honestly, I’m ready to start my classes.”

“You’re gonna be a photography major, right?”

“Yep. I love taking pictures, but really, it’s just an excuse to take tons of pics of Cheryl.”

“Like – ?”

“Yeah, nudes, if she’s down for that. But like, _artsy_ nudes.”

Betty’s saved from having to respond to that by Jughead and Cheryl coming back into the living room area, bickering.

“YOU _CRETIN!_ WHO PUTS MILK IN _BEFORE_ THE CEREAL?”

“Oh god,” Betty groans, rubbing at her temples.

“Betty, divorce him,” Cheryl snaps. “I’ll pay for your lawyer.”

“Betty, I wasn’t thinking and did it in the wrong order. Oh my god.”

“I’m not divorcing Jughead!”

“Why not?”

“Excuse me?”

“Because he’s my husband?”

“Exactly. Divorce him and suddenly there’s no excuse anymore.”

“But I – I love him, Cheryl, I’m not gonna divorce him over cereal.” Betty’s heart is pounding in her chest. It’s the first time she’s ever said it out loud.

“That’s disgusting.”

“No, it’s not?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Betty – “

Toni’s eyes flit between the three of them. “What’d Kevin say that one time? Oh yeah – this is riveting. I can’t breathe.”

“Why’d you even ask us to come over?” Jughead asks her, face pinched with annoyance.

“Oh, _ma cherie_ and I wanted to go out to eat, and since you’re married…”

“... you can pay,” Cheryl finishes, an evil grin on her face.

“What does being married have to do with paying for dinner?”

“You’re responsible adults now, aren’t you? You must be, if you’re married. Therefore, you will pay. Take your gays out to dinner.”

“Should we call Kevin then?”

“Uh, maybe not? We just got our jobs today, we don’t really – “

Cheryl narrates as she texts, “Hello, Kevin, you and Veronica are invited to come to dinner with us. Bughead is paying. Bring your most expensive tastebuds!”

Toni claps her hands, mocking the way Veronica does it. “Yay! Let’s go, then. And on the way, we can talk about how boring your sex life is, and how _not_ boring ours is.”

* * *

That night, they’re chilling on the couch, watching clips of the Bachelor on Youtube when Betty asks, “So, uh, we’ve talked about a lot of the aspects of this, but what about dating?”

Jughead says nonchalantly, “You can date people if you want, I’m not your keeper. Plus, didn’t Veronica’s friend say she and her guy had, like, an open marriage?”

“Yeah, I think so. And you can date too, if you want.” She’s twisting her fingers together, stomach clenching with all sorts of bad emotions at the thought of him dating someone. In all their lives, he never has.

“Heh, thanks.” A blush climbs up his face as he says, “Um, if you ever need the room for the night, I’ll clear out. Just let me know.”

“Yeah! Yeah, you too.” Betty feels the heat in her own cheeks.

She doesn’t mean it, thinks that if he ever needed the room, she’d have an excuse as to why he couldn’t have it.

Thankfully, the next few months prove too busy, with both of them starting their jobs and classes, for either of them to bring anyone home.

The thing is, Betty doesn’t look for anyone. And when people ask for their numbers, unbeknownst to her, he uses the same excuse she does.

“Sorry, I’m married.

One Monday in mid October, Betty drags Jughead with her to the gym. It’s a nice gym, and she doesn’t officially go there – somehow, Veronica has managed to get them to allow Betty to go as her “guest”. She’s been taking her best friend up on the offer for a little over two weeks now, using what little free time she has on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays to use the treadmill and lift small weights.

Ever since Veronica gave her the okay, she’s been trying to get Jughead to go with her.

“No, Betts, I’m not going. I don’t want to.”

They’re standing in the kitchen, and Betty, who has already used every trick she can think of, finally pulls out one she knows will get him to agree to it. She puts her palm down flat on the counter next to the very small oven, and declares, “If you don’t go with me, I’m going to stop baking.”

She bakes to relieve stress, with the added bonus of feeding him. It’s mostly about following the rules, making sure she does things right, making sure everything is evenly measured. But it’s also about seeing his smile as he bites into a new treat, and hearing the way he compliments her afterwards.

His face drops, arms falling to his sides. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” she threatens. “You don’t get enough exercise, given how much you eat. Either I stop baking for you, or you start going to the gym with me.”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me an ultimatum.”

“Hey, if it works, it works.”

They have an unspoken staring contest, wills battling against each other’s. Betty refuses to lose. It only takes a few moments for Jughead to groan and throw his hands up. “Fine! Fine, I will go to the frickin’ gym with you. God.”

He goes downstairs in a huff, and soon enough, she hears the sound of his keyboard clicking. Turning back to their dinner, a frozen lasagna, Betty rolls her eyes.

She thinks that maybe, living with him, always being around him, and having to deal with his bullshit should make her see reality. Her crush should’ve gone away in the face of him throwing up with a stomach bug a month ago. It should have gone away in the face of him drinking the milk out of the jug, or wearing the same shirt for three days in a row. But it hasn’t. For all the gross and annoying stuff he’s done, he’s also been very nice about her period, going so far as to buy her extra tampons and candy. When she tries out new recipes, he never complains if she fucks them up. He’s helped her finish two papers at this point, and managed to stop her from hurting herself on some level pretty much everyday since they moved in.

They protect each other. Or at least, she thinks they do. It’s easier to tell the way he protects her, since there are lots of crackheads and criminals in NYC. The way she protects him, though, is less obvious – when he wakes up with nightmares, she holds him and doesn’t ask what they’re about, and she makes sure he eats and gets enough sleep.

He protects her from the outside world, and she protects him from himself.

And, well. She needs some protecting.

There’s a guy at the gym who stares at her a lot, intently and obviously, and no amount of telling him to fuck off has made a difference.

She doesn’t tell Jughead this. Not that night or the next day, or on the walk to the gym. But he notices she’s nervous about something, and jokes, “I promise I won’t embarrass you with my flab.”

“First of all, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about flab. It’s normal.” And she’s only just realizing that after being told her whole life it wasn’t. “Second of all, you don’t have to take your shirt off. Third of all, _you don’t even have any_.”

“I could,” he protests with a laugh. They both know he doesn’t. His abs from helping out Fred Andrews have disappeared, but there’s certainly no pouch there.

As they step inside, she’s complaining about another dumb joke he’s made, “Oh my god, Jug.”

He laughs again, and out of the corner of her eye, she notices the guy turn away. She can’t help but smile, and turn her attention back to Jughead.

“Show me the way, Cooper.”

As it turns out, he doesn’t mind the treadmill. Never going above 5 mph, it’s more like a leisurely stroll for him. When she moves to the dumbbells, he sits next to her and pretends that lifting the 1-pound one makes him break a sweat.

She laughs more that day than she has in all the time she’s come here, and she’s made several friends.

Just before they leave, they go to the water fountains. Jughead didn’t do anything extensive today, but Betty did, and her water bottle is empty. For some reason, she didn’t fill it up all the way before they left home.

The guy approaches, taller than both her and Jughead, but thin in a way that seems unhealthy. Betty isn’t sure why he’s here when it looks like he needs to gain some weight. She tries not to judge – you can never tell a person’s goal just by looking at them – but this guy is so creepy that she doesn’t feel bad about it.

“Juggie,” she whispers, just before their space is invaded.

Something about her tone makes him stand up straighter, looking like a frightened cat with all of his hair on end. It would be funny if she wasn’t too worried about what might happen.

The guy looks Jughead up and down, lip curled pretentiously. “Who are you?”

The way he says it implies, _Who are you and what are you doing with this girl I’ve laid claim to?_

Jughead glares. He looks more like his dad than he’ll ever be comfortable with, fury tensing up his shoulders and clenching his fists. In a tone that brooks no argument, he says, “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

That offends the guy, who glares right back. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, but I came over to talk to the chick here.”

Betty scoffs at the same time as Jughead. Beady eyes slide from Jughead’s face to Betty’s, narrowing with contempt. _Ooh_ , she wants to knock a few of his lights out.

“That _chick_ is my wife.”

“And I’ve only told you ‘no’ a thousand times. So leave me the fuck alone.”

“Or what?” He challenges.

“Or you’ll regret it,” Jughead answers, his jaw jumping, eyes flashing. Betty can’t help but think he looks beautiful in this moment. Also sexy.

The guy laughs, like he thinks they’re silly little children. Well, Betty can put a stop to that. She looks at her husband, batting her eyelashes.

“Juggie, your dad still runs that gang, right? He wouldn’t be very happy to hear that some creep is bothering us.” FP probably wouldn’t care all that much, in reality, but said creep doesn’t need to know that.

Jughead catches on immediately, and puts on an affected air. “You’re right, he wouldn’t. But I don’t know if we should tell him, considering the last time….”

“Oh, I feel so sorry for that poor man’s family! To see a loved one die like that….” She sighs, “It’s terrible.”

“I know, baby.”

Something zings inside of her at the pet name. There’s no time to focus on it, though. To the guy, she says, “They beat him so bad, his bones were like powder. Now, I don’t want to have to call him here. But clearly, you can’t take a clear and direct rejection, so it looks like I’m gonna have to.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the guy stutters.

“It’s not,” Jughead promises.

The standoff continues for another few seconds before the fight visibly goes out of the guys eyes. As he leaves, he calls out, “Whatever, you freaks. She isn’t that hot anyway, not worth my time.”

When they get back to the apartment, Betty attempts to head right to the shower, but Jughead stops her. He doesn’t touch her, just stands in front of the door to the bathroom, fingers twitching.

“How long’s that been going on?”

“What – ?”

“Don’t, Betty. Don’t play dumb. How long has he been bothering you?”

She sighs, working her jaw. After a moment, she admits, “Basically since day one.”

“He didn’t – he didn’t do anything, right? You’d tell me if he did?”

“No, he never did anything to me, and yes, of course, I’d tell you. Jughead, you’re…. I know we have Choni and V and Kev and the Pussycats here, but you’re my _best friend_.” Sometimes, it feels like he’s her only friend, since everyone else is so busy all the time. Jughead is a constant in her life, there when she gets home, ready to hang out or just be there with her. “I can tell you anything. I mean that. And if something like that happened, you’d be the first one I called.”

She can’t – won’t – _refuses_ to tell him about her crush on him and everything that entails. But other than that, there’s nothing he can’t know.

He swallows, and tells her, “I – good. That’s good.” Moving out of the way, he lets her pass by. “You too, Betts.”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend, too.”

His words echo in her head while she washes her hair and cleans away the soap. On one hand she’s thrilled that they’re so close – that he considers her his closest ally – but on the other hand, she wants to be more than that to him. She wants him to think of her as more.

Ugh.

When she gets out, he’s got something cooking in the oven. “You wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” she agrees, smiling. “Smells good. What is it?”

“Pizza.”

“Digiorno's?”

“Nope, Red Baron.”

“Ooh, nice.” She grabs a juice out of the fridge. “What’re you in the mood for tonight?”

For a second, he looks at her weird, but then he asks, “Like, movie genre?”

“Yeah,” she giggles.

“Horror?”

“Oh, let’s watch Annabelle! I saw it with V when it came out and I’ve been wanting to see it again.”

He agrees to the movie easily, and soon enough they’re sitting down on the couch with their food, watching it on her laptop. They don’t sit that close, since they know all too well that their arms will bump into each other and could send their pizza flying. But once they’re both done, paper plates (so they don’t have to clean the dishes) set on the floor, they shuffle a little closer. And by the time they’re into the thick of the movie, jumpscares happening with increasing regularity, Betty finds herself cuddled into Jughead’s side. Not because she’s scared, but because he is.

She can’t help but laugh when he jumps.

“Betty,” he complains, “Don’t make fun of me. This movie’s scary as hell.”

“I’m not, Juggie, I promise.” She grabs his hands in hers, the way he’s done a hundred times, and cradles his shaking fingers. “I’ll keep you safe from the big bad completely fictional doll.”

“ _Betty_ ,” he whines again, but this time, he’s smiling.

* * *

A few mornings later, on a day that neither of them had morning classes, Betty sits on the fire escape and watches the sunrise, a steaming cup of coffee warming up her hands. It’s peaceful, more so than anything else has been in her life the past few months, except, that is, when she’s cuddled up in bed with Jughead. They’ve both succumbed to the fact that Forsythe Pendleton “Jughead” Jones the Third is a cuddler of the worst sort. She refuses to put any of the blame on herself.

The window slides up, and Jughead lumbers through, whispering, “Parkour,” as he sits down next to her. He shivers, and she offers some of the blanket, which he takes gratefully.

“Thanks, baby,” he mutters, and presses his forehead to her shoulder.

She stiffens, pleasure shooting down her spine. Even as his breath starts to deepen and his weight presses more insistently onto her, she can’t think of anything but the fact that he called her _baby_.

He rarely calls her any pet names but Betts, even in front of their friends (the ones who think they’re in love). Don’t get her wrong, she loves to be called Betts by him, but well… she doesn’t mind baby. She really doesn’t.

Taking another sip of her coffee, she looks at him sidelong. His hair is sticking up in every direction like most mornings, matted in places that match up with the pillow lines on his cheeks. The moles on his face and neck stand out in the early morning light – her lizard brain urges, _lick them_.

Jesus.

She sighs, thinking that she’d love to lick him anywhere he wants her to. Then, that that’s a terribly inappropriate though to have while he’s literally sleeping on her. If she laid down right now, he’d slide down with her, and his face would end up in her boobs, the lizard brain tells her.

Guess she’ll be staying upright then.

Thankfully, he wakes back up a few minutes later, sniffling a little. When he realizes where he’s at, he says, “Oh shit, sorry,” and pulls away.

“It’s okay. Stay here.”

He smiles at her, soft and sweet, and asks, “What, on your shoulder?”

“No – not unless you want to, I mean. But I was saying under the blanket. It’s cold, Juggie.”

“Mm, yeah.”

When he doesn’t move fast enough, she takes matters into her own hands, and leans into him. He’s warm, _so_ warm, and god, he feels good. No wonder she’s been sleeping better here than she practically ever has before – he’s an amazingly comfortable body pillow, and all for her.

“Whatcha doing, Betts,” he laughs, draping an arm around her back and laying down on the cold metal. She _hears_ his wince, and lays her palms on his bare arms, rubbing so he can warm up.

The position they’re in doesn’t even register.

“I told you I’m cold.”

“You did.”

“Warm me up, Juggie,” she breathes, and doesn’t think about the way it sounds until she looks up at his face.

His eyes are hooded, just a bit, and his mouth is open in a small ‘o’.

“Not like that,” she blurts out, pulling away. But then she just ends up straddling him, and, blushing so hot she must look like a goddamn firetruck, she scrambles to her feet. “Sorry. I’m – I didn’t – sorry.”

She ducks back inside, leaving him laying there on the fire escape, and throws herself into bed, pulling the blankets over her head. _Oh_ _god_ , she thinks repeatedly, positive that she’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.

If Veronica were here, she’d say, “Just fuck him and get it over with,” and roll her eyes. In the past month, she’s been saying it more and more, sometimes privately but more often in front of Jughead and their other friends.

Embarrassed tears welling up, she presses her face into the mattress. _Don’t cry,_ she tells herself, _don’t cry. Don’t, Betty._

Jughead comes in, then, with the worst _fucking_ timing like always. For a moment, he’s quiet, and she senses that he doesn’t approach the bed. When he speaks, the distance of his voice backs that up. “It’s okay, you know.”

“No it’s not.”

“Betty, we’re two young adults living together and seeing each other all the time. Awkward situations are just a given.” She doesn’t miss the implication that he’s talking about awkward _sexual_ situations. He wakes up hard most mornings. More than once, she’s enjoyed longer than normal showers. More than once, _he’s_ enjoyed longer than normal showers.

He’s right, they are young adults constantly in close quarters, but for the most part, they’ve managed to keep things platonic. She hates it, aches with longing for things to be different, but she cannot lose his friendship over a crush. God, it would ruin her life.

Which means that she needs to patch this up, and she needs to do it now.

… she’s gonna stay under the blanket while she does it, though.

“You’re right,” she says loud enough to be heard. “I’m sorry I’m being weird.”

“It’s okay.”

“School’s just… stressing me out.”

“Valid.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Yup.”

“School’s getting to me too. You think we should go hang out with someone to get our minds off it, maybe?”

And get away from the apartment? Have a buffer? Yes, please. ”Yeah, good idea. What about Reggie? He got this weird massage-gun thing, V was telling me about it….”

“Uhh, how about anyone but him?”

Sitting up and pushing the blankets down, she gives him a look. “What is your problem with him?”

“Other than the four years of bullying and constant peddling of his homemade Jingle Jangle? Nothing.”

Well, fuck. She can’t protest that. “How about we go hang out with Veronica and Kevin, then? Kev was telling me last night how much he misses us.”

Jughead sighs, but he’s smiling, and a piece of the anxious tension in Betty breaks. “Fine. To Off-Broadway we go!”

* * *

Jughead has a night class, so they come back from the Lodge-Keller residence around rush hour.

Somehow, they luck out by finding possibly the only car in all of New York City that has a few seats open.

Betty’s feeling significantly better after hours of talking shit and eating well with her friends. At one point, she told Veronica what happened, and her friend made her feel a lot better, telling her that Jughead didn’t seem upset or anything, and that it would probably just be a small blip on the radar.

So when Jughead tugs her closer on the subway, she doesn’t flush. No pit emerges in her stomach. She just turns her head towards him and asks, “What – ?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head.

Betty doesn’t question it, honestly feeling better tucked into his side. The men on subway cars late at night aren’t exactly the savory types.

They get off to get ice cream and walk to the next stop, licking at their cones. Some of Betty’s sherbert drips onto her skirt, and she curses at the stain.

“I got one of those Tide sticks the other day,” he tells her around another lick of his rocky road. “When we get home, I’ll help you get it out.”

She looks up from where she’s holding the hem in her fingers, giving him a smile. “Thanks.”

He hums in acknowledgement, and together, they head towards the subway entrance. Thankfully when they step into their car, it’s significantly less full. Betty leaves a bit of space between her and Jughead – not tons, but enough that it’s noticeable.

For a few minutes, this is fine. Jughead regales her with something his teacher did yesterday that he’d forgotten to tell her, and Betty tells him a similar story about one of her classmates. Jughead’s legs are spread just enough to be considered manspreading, which Betty usually calls him out on, but considering there’s no one standing up, she’s not too worried about it.

She’s just telling him about how Cheryl was apparently approached by the HONY guy when he sits up straighter, knees coming together more. His eyes concentrate over her shoulder.

Turning her head to see where he’s looking, she comes face to face with another crackhead. He’s looking right next to them and is, unfortunately, standing up. Fear clenches in her belly immediately.

“Jughead?” She asks, not looking back at him. “Can I – ?”

“Why’re you sitting so far away?” His hand gently tugs at her wrist. “Come here.”

Betty does, sitting so close to him that their hips press together, their legs touching almost all the way to their ankles. He takes her hand in his, fingers curling between her own, resting them on his knee.

By the time they reach the next stop, Betty’s finished Cheryl’s story, but she told the rest of it quietly and didn’t look away from Jughead once.

A family of approximately fifteen very tired tourists wearing the same bright blue shirt comes on, and thank god, the crackhead stumbles off without having bothered Betty and Jughead.

When the possibly pregnant one in the family finds herself without a seat, Betty gracefully gives hers up, but doesn’t stand up for even a few seconds before Jughead’s pulled her down into his lap.

“Juggie, what – ?”

Eyes shining with something, he says, “You’re my wife, Betts, I’m not gonna make you stand.”

“So, sitting in your lap is the only option?”

“Well, I don’t want to stand up, either.” He winks.

She laughs at him and can’t help but press her forehead against his in the process.

“Aww, aren’t you two just the sweetest things,” one of the two grandmas with the family coos at them.

“Thanks,” they both say at once, and Betty laughs again.

“How long have you been married?” The other grandma asks, veritable hearts in her eyes.

“Since April,” Jughead says, arms wrapping around Betty’s waist. Her own arms come up around his neck as she settles herself on his lap more comfortably. Thankfully she’s sitting sideways, and not on his crotch. Her bony butt probably wouldn’t feel great.

“Oh! You’re so young, I bet you were both still in school.”

Betty laughs. “Yeah, we were, but we’d both turned eighteen by that point.”

“That’s when Gloria and I met, too!”

“Oh yeah?” Jughead asks. “How long have you two known each other?”

“It’s been, hmm,” Gloria puts her hand on her chin in thought, “What, forty-nine years now?”

The thought of knowing Jughead that long makes Betty feel hot and cold at the same time, pleasure and anxiety warring within her. “Well, how long have you been together?”

“What?” Jughead glances at her, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

Gloria and the other lady laugh. “Oh sweetheart, we’re gay. To answer your question, we’ve been together basically since we met.”

Jughead, blushing, just says, “Wow… that’s neat.”

“Juggie, stop it,” Betty giggles, tapping a gentle smack on his cheek. He turns his face up into it, grinning.

“I don’t like to assume,” he defends.

“They literally are the older version of Cheryl and Toni, how did you not see it?”

“I don’t know – ?”

The old ladies cut into their banter with more questions, including a sly, ”Is she making it a bit uncomfortable for you, dear?” with a wink and all.

Jughead flushes even more, even as he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing good ever comes from wives sitting on their spouse’s lap, dear.”

His face pinches, and he turns to Betty, who is equally as red at the implication. “They really are just like Cheryl and Toni.”

It turns out that the witch’s name is Sharon, who is a very lovely lady, when she’s not teasing them within an inch of their dumb lives. This group is their merged families, and Sharon and Gloria have many funny stories to tell. For the rest of the ride, they regale Betty and Jughead with them, and wish them goodnight when they step off at their stop.

When they crawl into bed that night, it suddenly dawns on Betty that there was no reason for Jughead to act like her husband when there was no one there from campus. He could’ve given up his seat, or chatted with the old ladies as just her friend.

Yet he made it clear that she’s his wife.

_Why?_

* * *

When Betty and Jughead walk into Veronica and Kevin’s apartment at five o’clock on October 31st, they aren’t expecting the chaos they immediately encounter.

Kevin, wearing a blindingly sparkly tuxedo, opens the door for them, and shoves something at them. “Betty, help me get a gap in my teeth! V is refusing to and Cheryl and Toni are too busy defiling my kitchen counter to pay attention to me.”

“WE’RE JUST BEING IN CHARACTER, KEVIN, YOU OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD _MPFF_ – “ Cheryl shouts from the kitchen, otherwise occupied, at least for the moment.

“You poor baby,” Jughead coos as Betty forces Kevin to take a step back and let them in.

“Shut it, Jug, or – “ Kevin babbles, Betty’s fingers on his teeth and the marker he’d given her resting on his upper lip as she angled it. “Bet – “

“You said you wanted help,” she says, “You’re going for Elton John, right? Hold still.”

Jughead laughs and wanders off to the kitchen, only to yelp and stumble back, his hand over his eyes. “Too much! I’ve seen _too much!_ ”

“ _Wait,_ I haven’t yet!” Veronica yells from somewhere else, running in. “Stay there! I’ll be right there!”

“Ronnie!” Archie whines. “You have a boyfriend. AKA – me! Jesus Christ.”

“I know, Archiekins, and I love you, but no matter how many abs you have, they’re never gonna be four perfect boobs. It’s just facts.”

Betty, Jughead, and Kevin all nod along. When Kevin moves his head too much though, Betty snaps, “I said hold still!”

“You’re not even in a costume yet, you can’t boss me around,” he mumbles.

“As soon as I change my shirt, I will be, so ha!”

In retaliation, Kevin tries to suck her finger into his mouth. She shrieks and pulls away completely, and in the background, Jughead asks, “What the fuck is going on?”

“Just put a line on my teeth.” Kevin whines, pulling Betty into a hug. Drawing out the ‘e’, he continues, “ _Please_.”

Betty sighs and gives in, trying to figure out the best way to do it and make it look perfect. Finally, she just goes for it, and thank god, it’s only a little crooked.

Once that’s done, Jughead drags her to Kevin’s bedroom, where they change fully into their matching cargo pants and black shirts. Betty’s is a crop top, while his is a turtleneck. They both slip on their gloves.

“You’re forgetting something.”

“Uh, no, I’m not?”

“Your hat.”

“What? No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes! For accuracy's sake, Jughead.”

“No.”

“For the integrity of the characters, then.”

“No, Betty.”

Betty sighs, and pulls out the big guns – her pout and puppy dog eyes. “For me?”

He stares at her, and for a long second, she thinks he’s going to keep his hat on and ruin Ron Stoppable’s aesthetic. But then he sighs, and chucks the beanie on the bed.

She squeals, and pulls him into a hug. It’s probably overkill, but whatever. “Thank you, Juggie.”

“It’s a huge problem, Betts,” he promises.

When they walk out, it’s to find Archie dressed head to toe in Batman gear, and Veronica in a matching Catwoman suit with many, many cut outs. Way too many to be practical in a heist of any sort. Cheryl’s dressed in a police uniform with a deep-cut V showing off ample cleavage, and high waisted pants that make her ass look great. Toni wears a cheerleading uniform with her belly showing. The skirt is so small, Betty’s worried she’ll freeze out there. Perfect, just as the lord intended Halloween to be.

Cheryl preempts them by saying, “We’re Wayhaught.”

“Way hot?” Jughead asks.

“ _Yeah_ , you are,” Veronica comments, “...In a healthy way.”

Toni rolls her eyes. “I told you they wouldn’t know who we are.”

“Does it matter as long as I get to see your abs? And your legs, for that matter. And your smile.”

“I guess not. Especially when I have front row seats to the girls all night.” She winks outrageously.

“Get a room!” Kevin calls from somewhere, and Betty can’t help but giggle.

“Why are we all such a mess?” Jughead wonders aloud.

“It’s the Gen Z way, dude.” Archie lowers his voice dramatically.

“No, the Gen Z way is avocado toast. This mess is just your fault.” Veronica interjects.

“My fault? How is it my fault?” Archie asks, confused and hurt.

“You haven’t hung out without us for months – “ Jughead starts.

“I was talking to Betty, actually.”

“What?” Betty yelps.

“Excuse me? This isn’t her fault, Ronnie. This is – ”

“Don’t even say my name, Romeo,” Kevin interrupts, “I don’t even want to know what you two did in my bed while you were ‘changing’.”

“Kevin, oh my god, they did get changed, do you not see that?” Toni huffs.

Jughead lights up at being bolstered, and tells him, miffed, “I wasn’t gonna say your name but now I am. This is your fault. You’re the one who needed help the second we walked in.”

Twenty minutes of bickering later, and Choni have given up on winning the argument and moved to the couch, where they are _actually_ getting to third base – the cushions will never the same.

Betty’s feeling as stressed as Kim Possible does on any given day, running her fingers through her hair. Eventually, she links her fingers in Jughead’s, and starts tugging him toward the door. “When you three are done acting like idiots, call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me.”

And with that, they step out into the night, ready to devour all the candy Jughead can eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Betty and Jughead's costumes](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/325385141807501721/?lp=true%22%3E%22%3E)   
>  [Veronica's costume](https://image.dhgate.com/0x0/f2/albu/g5/M00/3B/A0/rBVaI1mqWAeAOlfwAAVW1ZgnXMs480.jpg)   
>  [Archie's costume](http://photos.costume-works.com/full/batman.jpg)   
>  [Cheryl's costume](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/wynonnaearp/images/c/c7/Nicolehaught_featured2.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20170606110025)   
>  [Toni's costume](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/40500000/cheerleader-Waverly-wynonna-earp-40541664-500-280.gif)   
>  [Kevin's costume](https://sc01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1.2MQJVXXXXbfXpXXq6xXFXXXc.jpg)
> 
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> Please comment we'll love you forever!!


	3. YEAR ONE – PART THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bughead are still awkward but horny, Veronica has no time for their shit but horny, Choni are just horny and Kevin is Kevin BUT HORNY.
> 
> Oh and Archie exists I guess...
> 
> Choni have a beautiful, loving and caring sex scene in this, but, in true Riverdale fashion, it got cut for time.
> 
> OR
> 
> Ari and Dottie love to make them suffer and have NO RAGRETS
> 
> PS this is one of Ari's fave chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating of this chapter is T for teen, though there is, as the summary suggests, elements of M/R rated things within. It's about the same as previous chapters, though.
> 
> As always, thank you very much to Izzie for betaing <3333

“ Betts, where’s my ‘S’ shirt?”

She sighs, zipping up her bag and setting it down on the bed. “I don’t know! You have, like, five!”

“My blue one!”

“I said I don’t know, Jughead!” Huffing, she goes upstairs to the bathroom, passing Jughead in the kitchen on her way  to the bathroom. She pulls her birth control and anxiety pills out of the cabinet behind the mirror, as well as her acne cream from the counter, and a few extra tampons from under the sink. There should be some at home, but she doesn’t want to risk it. As she stands up, it all falls out of her hands, and she lets out a frustrated scream.

Jughead is suddenly in the doorway, concern written all over his face.  H e doesn’t step in, but she still feels crowded. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Betty promptly bursts into tears. “No,” she wails. “It’s not okay, nothing’s okay! Mom’s gonna jump down my throat, I just know it, and I can’t even fucking  _ hold  _ things now….”

“Betty, c’mere,” he says, reaching out for her. She walks into his arms, stepping right into his hug. One hand goes to her waist, while the other rubs at the base of her spine. Her hot tears sink not into a shirt (not even his white wife beater which he’d been wearing for three weeks straight) but onto his bare skin. It’s shocking, but it makes her feel better either way. “It’s okay, nothing’s broken, it was probably just too much for anyone to hold.”

“I just feel stupid.”

“There’s no reason to,” he soothes. “It’s just that your emotions are riding really high right now, and that’s valid as fuck, dude.”

Betty can’t help but laugh, obviously his intention, but she doesn’t let go. “Thanks for being understanding. Also, sorry for the torture you’re about to be subjected to.”

He smirks. “It’s not like I haven’t been through it in the last ten months.”

“Yes, but you haven’t had to endure a seven hour car ride with no escape,” she teases.

“Yeah, you’re right. But how bad can it be?”

As it turns out, very bad.

It has less to do with her being on her period and much more to do with traffic, and the fact that they’re crammed into the second of Veronica’s two town cars with Cheryl and Toni. Cheryl has the front seat, Toni behind her. Toni keeps tickling Cheryl and leaning forward to kiss her neck and they won’t stop doing it, no matter how many times Betty points out the fact that the driver, Andre, is obviously distracted by their antics.

Betty sits in the middle, knees turned towards Toni and her upper body laying on Jughead’s. He’s accepted it, his arm over her stomach to hold her in place, his warm hand acting like a hot water bottle against her cramping abdomen. His other hand is raking through her hair, gently pulling at tangles and soothing her headache.

_ Jesus, he’s amazing, _ she thinks, sinking into him.  _ Why can’t this be real? _

“Hey, will you pull over at the next McDonald’s?” Jughead asks Andre suddenly, and even though she didn’t hear his stomach rumble, she knows it must be because he’s hungry.

“Yeah, man, sure. Just gotta let Smithers and Miss Lodge know.”

A few minutes later, both cars pull into the parking lot of a Taco Bell, which is not what Jughead wanted, though he doesn’t look too upset.

“Why have we stopped, Hobo?” Cheryl asks, like she’s just realized they aren’t driving anymore.

“We should switch seats,” he replies, unbuckling Betty’s seatbelt for her. “You two can sit back here and sin all you want, while we sit up front, not distracting Andre, trying to ignore what’s happening behind us and not die inside.”

Toni laughs, wickedly amused, but Cheryl just glares. “As if you could ever ignore us.”

“That’s the point,” Betty says, sitting up with a groan. “I’ve seen way too much of it. Veronica will be so jealous.”

“She would.”

“Oh well,” Cheryl shrugs, diving into the backseat. Toni catches her in her waiting arms.

Jughead pushes his door open, unbuckles his seat belt, and hops out. Betty drags herself out behind him, thanking him as he closes the door. Together, they move to the front seat, where Jughead sits down first, and Betty again finds herself on his lap.

_ I’m sensing a theme _ , she thinks as she sinks back into his embrace.

The seat belt is pulled over her and plugged in, and soon enough, they’re back on the road. Betty leans her head into the crook of Jughead’s neck, enjoying the feeling of  the feeling of his hands as they rest on her side, pressing in gently and soothing the cramps again.

From the back seat, Cheryl giggles in a higher pitch than Betty has ever heard before. It quickly cuts off into a moan, and Betty tries to turn her attention to something else. Like the fact that in five short hours, she’ll be back home, forced to sit around inside the very empty Cooper home. Without Jughead.

Her heart pangs with...  _ something _ .

It’s not weird, she tells herself. Of course she’ll miss him. They see each other every single day. Waking up alone, on the rare days he has morning classes or the early shift at work, feels wrong. Having to go from this – literally playing the part of loving wife, draping herself on him and sitting in his lap – to not seeing him except with the group? It’ll be tough. More than tough, it’ll be  _ hard _ .

Speaking of hard things.

When she shifts to get more comfortable, she regrets it instantly.

Except, well. She doesn’t. But also, yes she does.

“Sorry,” Jughead whispers in her ear. “Can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” she says back. 

For the next four hours, they suffer. Jughead’s problem doesn’t go away completely, and Betty’s cramps decide it’s a good idea to turn into chainsaws ripping into her. Cheryl won’t stop moaning. Toni is giggling. There are wet sounds. Betty can’t say she’s unaffected by fucking  _ any of it _ . It’s the car ride from hell.

* * *

Jughead helps her get all of her stuff together when they get out in front of the Cooper home. Taking the bag from him, she feels tears welling her eyes.

“Text me,” she says, “Promise me you will.”

He inhales shakily, a sheen coming over his eyes, and suddenly, she’s in a bone crushing hug.  B e tty falls into it, not wanting to ever let go.

The way he holds her to him makes her think he feels the same way, which is –  _ weird _ , but she’s not gonna focus on that when they only have a minute together at most.

Cheryl and Toni are peering at them from the backseat, and sure, this could be written off as them acting. They’ve already explained that their parents don’t know and therefore they can’t stay together, so this is just a progression of that – separating must be terribly hard for people who are actually married.

It sucks a lot for Betty right now, and she knows that her mom will have a field day interrogating her about the tears on her face, but she doesn’t care.

“I will text you every second I can,” he says into her hair. “Literally so much that you’ll get sick of me.”

“If you getting in a fight didn’t turn me away, nothing will.” She remembers the way his eye had swollen, the way his lip had been busted. She remembers being terrified that they’d come back for more bloodshed. She remembers patching him up and being mad, but never wanting to leave or kick him out.

_ No one can hear you, Betty, so why are you saying that? _

“That was one of my, uh, less stellar moments,” he winces.

“Yeah. It was. But I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It was a while ago now. And I don’t want to spend our last moments….” Her eyes well up again. It’s stupid, it’s really stupid, because it’s not like they live far away from each other. A fifteen minute drive, if the traffic’s bad. They can text all they want.  _ They aren’t really married _ . But still, she’s going to miss him terribly.

“Betts, honey, shh, shh,” he soothes, pulling her back into a hug.

She presses her face against his neck and tells herself to let herself enjoy it, because if she can’t enjoy the warmth of her husband’s hug, then what – 

The front door opens, and then Alice Cooper is shouting, “What’s going on here?”

They spring away from each other, and Betty wipes at her eyes, both in an attempt to hide the tears and also to give herself a second to think.

Nothing comes to her though, and when she looks over to Jughead, she sees that he’s got nothing either.

_ Well, fuck _ , her only option really is–“It’s just–it’s my period, Mom, I’m, I’m  _ emotional _ , okay?”

“Elizabeth, Jesus, does everyone need to know that? Unhand that street rat and come here.”

“He’s not–

Cheryl, from the rolled-down window, shouts, “Yes, he is, Bride of Hobo! Now go inside! The sooner you get inside, the sooner Jughead can be taken to his trailer, and the sooner I can fuck my girlfriend in the privacy of our own home!”

“Yeah!” Toni adds helpfully, helping no one but herself.

“You’ve been fucking for the past several hours.”

“ _ Days _ , honey,” Cheryl sighs, “Now go the fuck inside.”

Betty sighs, looking Jughead in the eye. “Uh, I’ll–”

“Yeah, I–”

“Elizabeth!”

 

* * *

**Jughead:** I miss you. Dad isn’t as pretty as you in the morning

**Betty:** I miss you too. Mom is a demon

**Jughead:** Are we surprised

**Betty:** No but we are upset :/

**Jughead:** I’ll fite her  **(╯°□°）╯** **︵ ┻━┻**

**Betty:** LMAO thank you but that won’t be necessary

**Jughead:** If you’re sure Betts   **┬─┬ ノ( ゜-゜ノ)**

**Betty:** I am  <3

**Jughead:（＾－＾✿）** aww you’re too sweet wifey

**Betty:** It feels weird not eating dinner with you and your disgusting appetite. We have so much leftover turkey and no one to eat it

**Betty:** Is that weird??

**Jughead:** Nah 

**Jughead:** I feel that way too. Like I keep looking around thinking I’ll find you somewhere lmao

**Betty:** Same **(´• ᴗ •̥`✿)**

* * *

By the time Betty sees him again, a day has passed, and so has Thanksgiving. It was the longest day of her life. No Jughead, all Mom.

“Yikes,” Veronica winces with a laugh, immediately taking a sip of her milkshake. Tucked into Archie’s side, she looks a little tipsy, which is honestly not that surprising. She always has enjoyed using the holidays as an excuse to drink, since she usually doesn’t during the school year. “How’d you survive?”

“I just lied my ass off,” Betty groans, falling back into the seat. Jughead isn’t here yet – apparently FP wanted to talk to him about something – and she feels lonely and sad and tired and a billion other things. Her stupid brain is insisting on only feeling better once Jughead is with her. “God, she knew it too. She kept saying, ‘If I catch you lying…’. She’s a reporter, for God’s sake. She just didn’t call me out on it because there was too much cooking to be done.”

“Wow,” Archie says, “You got lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah….” Suddenly the door to Pop’s opens, and Betty turns her whole body, hoping it’s Jughead – and thank fucking god, it is. She stands and rushes towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist as soon as she’s close enough. “Oh,” she sighs into his chest, feeling infinitely better already. Jeez, one day without him shouldn’t make her feel like this.

Jughead laughs, “Hi Betts,” and lifts her just barely off the ground in a hug.

Once she’s back on solid ground, she says, “Come on, let’s go sit,” and tugs him by the hand to their booth. His fingers curl around hers easily.

“Woah,” Archie whispers to Veronica. Betty barely catches it.

“I know,” Veronica whispers back, eyeing them as they settle down in their side of the booth.

“So, whatcha talking about?” Jughead asks, throwing an arm over Betty’s shoulders and taking a long sip of her milkshake. Betty honestly doesn’t care – they’ve been sharing food for months, plus it’s adorable.

Clearly, her friends don’t feel that way. They both have wide eyes. Jughead doesn’t seem to notice.

“Actually, I was just – Betty, be a dear, won’t you, and come with me to the bathroom?” Veronica stands, and then laughs an obviously fake giggle. “Girls, you know how we are. Can’t go alone.”

“Um, is it okay if I just stay here with Juggie and – ?”

“No, it’s important. Really important. Like Defcon Level Ten important.”

_ Oh shit,  _ Betty thinks, and shoots Jughead an apologetic look as she disentangles herself from him. He waves it off, and says, “Don’t take too long or your milkshake’ll be gone.”

She laughs and says, “ _ Juggie _ , stop it,” slapping his arm lightly.

He gasps, throwing a hand to his chest in faux shock. “You wound me, Betts!”

“Betty, now please,” Veronica insists, tugging at Betty’s arm.

_ Oh right, emergency, go. Stop messing around with Juggie. Help your friend. Does girl code mean nothing to you?  _ God,  _ Betty. _

The second the door to the bathroom closes behind them, Betty’s asking, “Did Archie get you pregnant? Because I will fight him so hard! All those years of sexual safety lectures,  _ wasted _ .”

Veronica flushes, and she snaps, “Actually, no, this is about you and  _ Juggie  _ out there. Are you fucking him?”

“What? No – “

“Are you sure? Because you two are acting like you’re in fucking heat.”

Cold embarrassment slaps Betty in the face. “ _ No _ , I’m not.  _ We’re  _ not. That’s ridiculous. We’re just friends, V. That’s all.  _ God _ .”

“Does it look like we’re in Egypt? Because you’re way too deep in denial right now.”

“Veronica – “

“What? He’s not into you? Is that it? Are you blind, B? Because he lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw you. He looked at you like you were the turkey he ate last night. If he’s not head over heels in love with you, I’ll eat my hat. And it’s a  _ very  _ expensive hat, Elizabeth.”

Betty crosses her arms. “Ronnie, stop it. We’re just friends.”

Veronica mimics her stance. “Betty, stop it. You clearly aren’t.”

“We’re just really good at acting the part, and it’s hard to remember who knows it’s fake and who doesn’t.”

“Are you sure you aren’t going method?”

“What?”

“You’re so good at playing husband and wife because you  _ are  _ husband and wife. Archie and I both know that you’re  _ allegedly _ just pretending so why are you acting like this in front of us? We’re the only people who do know it’s fake – it’s not that hard to remember you don’t have to pretend in front of us. Sweetheart, he looks at you the same way Cheryl looks at Toni when she’s wearing a red flannel.”

“Oh my god,” Betty says, “That reminds me, I have to tell you – “

“Stop deflecting. Just fuck his brains out already, Jesus Christ. The poor boy is gonna  _ explode _ .”

The implications of that make Betty dizzy. Jughead? Wanting to touch her? Never. Not in a million years. He’s never shown any interest in anyone, let alone her. “What?” She laughs. “No he’s not.”

Veronica softens dramatically. “Elizabeth Cooper, have you ever seen Jughead be this openly affectionate,  _ ever _ ?”

“I… I don’t think so.”

“That answers it then, don'tcha think?”

_ Oh my god. _

**_Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._ **

“So what?” she says, forcing her thoughts to shut the fuck up. “Even if he likes me — which he doesn’t, okay? He doesn’t, I’d know — I’m not gonna ruin such a wonderful friendship over something like this. “

“Betty, oh my god. I swear on my Birkin bags, he’s into you. You wouldn’t be ruining it. You’d be making it better.”

She just shakes her head.

“He’s in love with you, Betty,” Veronica tries, practically pleading. “He has been since sophomore year, we could all tell. Ever since you and him revamped the Blue and Gold.”

“I — I just — I just can’t risk it, V. Please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“Betty – “

“We just — see each other too much,” she finally says, pushing at the door but not exiting. “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we do everything together. It’s just second nature. If I told him and he didn’t feel the same way, we would have to change everything. And I just can’t handle that right now. Not when he’s the only thing in that city that makes me feel safe.”

When she goes and sits back down with Jughead, there are tears in her eyes. Whatever conversation he and Archie were having is interrupted, and Jughead’s stance goes from tense to soft in a second.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on? Do we need to take Ronnie somewhere, or – ?”

“No, no,” she says, patting at his chest, sniffling hard. “It’s okay. She’s alright. I’m alright.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am, Juggie, I promise.”

“Just think about what I said, bro,” Archie sighs, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”

“Arch, let it go,” Jughead says lowly.

Veronica comes back then, smoothing out her hair. “Just a little pregnancy scare, nothing too drastic.”

“What?” Archie yelps, sitting up like he’s been hit by lighting. “ _ What _ ? We haven’t even – “

“Oh hush, Archiekins, the important thing is that it was  _ just _ a scare! Now, onto other matters… I got the wishbone this year at dinner. Daddy gave it to me and told me to not to waste my wish – and this year, I want something… let’s say,  _ charitable _ .”

“What’s that?” Betty asks with deep suspicion.

V eronica, smirking evilly, points at Betty and then at Jughead. “I want you to kiss him.”

“What?” They both yelp. Betty can’t help but think that Pop Tate is getting a show tonight.

“What are you talking about, Veronica?” Betty demands. She can’t believe her ears. “We’re just pretending.”

“I know you are. But I have an insatiable curiosity about my friend’s sex lives and you guys haven’t delivered yet, making Choni pick up all the slack, ugh. Which I’m fine with, but, don’t you think it’s time you do it once? That way, in the future, it’s out of the way, and it won’t be as cripplingly awkward as I’m sure it is about to be.”

Jughead sighs and — goes along with it. “Yeah, sure, Betts, let’s just do it once. She’s not wrong….”

“I mean, it’s not like you actually like each other or anything, so it’s shouldn’t be that awkward for real. I was just teasing.”

“I — Archie, this is ridiculous, isn’t it? I mean, right?”

“No, no, she’s right. Eventually, for some reason, you’re gonna have to kiss. Might as well get it out of the way now.” Then he yelps, glaring at Jughead. “Dude!”

“What?” Jughead asks back innocently.

“That was my shin!”

“Oops?”

“Okay, now you’re gonna have to do it, you bitch,” Archie complains, rubbing at his shin. His eyes suddenly light up. “I double dog dare you.”

Ever since first grade, it’s been a rule that if you refuse a double dog dare, you have to be the darer’s servant for the day. Archie has always joked about how bad it’ll be on the day Jughead finally gives in.

“Fuck you, Archibald,” Jughead says, turning his head, looking to see if he has consent to kiss her.She nods, and then suddenly, his lips are on Betty’s.

They’re soft. A lot softer than she expected. Somehow, a million times better than she’s ever imagined. His hands are on either side of her face.

Jughead pulls away, and takes a long sip of her milkshake.

For some reason, her lizard brain tells her, humiliation lingering in the crevices of every word,  _ he didn’t like it. _

“Are you happy now?” 

Veronica looks… _panicked_? “No!” She snaps in her Rich Bitch tone. “That was barely a peck. Where was the tongue? I demand that you kiss again. Properly, this time.”

“Stop it, V,” Betty says weakly. She takes her milkshake from Jughead and drinks what’s left of it in one long gulp. “You got your fucking wish.”

“No, I wished for a kiss. Not something out of a middle school play.“

“She said stop, Ronnie!”

They’re all silent for a long, long moment, and then Archie says, “So, my dad got a cat.”

* * *

They don’t ride back to the city with Choni, or with Andre, or anyone. Jughead drives, and Betty naps. Her dreams are full of kissing him, his neck and his chest and his nose. The dream version of him reciprocates in kind, kissing her belly button and her jaw and behind her knee for some reason.  _ Yeah, she isn’t gonna examine that any further any time soon _ . _ Or ever. _

When she wakes up, his face is pinched. “Good dream?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You were, uh, making noises – “

“Oh! God, I’m sorry.” Face flaming, she drops her head in her hands.

“It’s fine.” His voice cracks. 

It’s not fine. Clearly. Jesus, she’s probably scared him away forever. Nice going, _ idiot _ .

She’s haunted by what noises she could’ve been making for the rest of the day, especially when they fall into bed. They haven’t unpacked, which was not usually something she’d let slide, but she’s so tired. They can unpack tomorrow. It’ll be fine.

Jughead drapes himself over his pillow, clutching it to his chest like it’s a stuffed animal or something. “Ahh, I missed you. Dad’s pillows are basically bricks.”

Betty laughs. “I’m glad. We do have some wonderful pillows.”

“We do,” he agrees. But then he puts the pillow back in its place, and wraps one of his arms over her. Into the skin of her shoulder, he says, “But you’re my favorite teddy bear, Cooper.”

He falls asleep immediately after that somehow, and Betty… Betty dies of pure affection.

In her dreams, Jughead features prominently. He wears a dress shirt with suspenders at the beginning, and then she blinks and he’s wearing something else, just his regular clothes. Wherever they were before is gone, and they’re laying in bed at home.

“I just wanna cuddle today,” he says. “No work. I’ll work tomorrow.”

“Jughead, you have to, baby,” a voice coos, a voice she recognizes as her own. A hand comes up and pets at him, rubbing soothing circles into his back, and Betty notices a much nicer ring than the one she has now on her left ring finger.

“But I’d rather stay here with you and our precious angel.”

“Our what now?” She laughs gently.

He blinks at her, pretty blue eyes standing out against the white sheets. “Our daughter, Betts. You were there when she was born, remember?”

As he laughs, Betty thinks,  _ a daughter? _

“Yeah, of course I remember Juggie,” she teases back. “I just forgot for a second, I don’t know.”

“Well, hopefully you don’t forget about this one,” he says, and reaches out, laying a hand on her stomach. She looks down, and – and she’s pregnant.

Betty wakes up gasping. Her hands fly to her stomach, but there’s nothing there. For some reason, she feels like crying.

_ No _ , she tells herself,  _ no. You’re going to think about this. This isn’t nothing. You’re literally dreaming about having his fucking kids. _

And she’s sad, fucking  _ sad _ , that it’s not real. There’s something like loss in her chest, which is absolutely ridiculous. She couldn’t have been dreaming for very long — she looks at the clock and realizes she has to get up soon anyway. An hour is soon, right?

She nudges Jughead, suddenly not wanting to be the only one awake as all sorts of feelings cascade into her. “Five more minutes, babe,” he mumbles and rolls over.

Betty lays next to him for the full hour without trying to wake him up again. She doesn’t know what to do with herself. Being up and about doesn’t seem appealing. Staying in bed, at least, is warm and comfortable.  A s much as her thoughts swirl about Jughead, he’s a comforting presence in addition to everything else, and he’s still the only thing about this city that makes her feel safe.

Veronica is right, she realizes. She’s in love with Jughead. She thinks she has been since before they ever came here, maybe since they first got the Blue and Gold up and running again. 

Oh no.

She’s in love with Jughead. Jughead Jones. Jughead Jones,  _ her fake husband who she was not supposed to fall in love with _ .

_Goddammit_ , she thinks tears leaking out of her eyes. Her period is clinging on like a baby koala, but an evil one with fangs and horns. Or maybe that’s just Cupid, fucking her over. Or maybe — no, _definitely_ — it’s just her making up excuses.

In his sleep, Jughead mumbles, “ _ Fuck _ , Betts,” and Betty gets the hell out of bed.   


* * *

The next week is the longest one of her life.

She avoids him at all costs, going so far as to sleep on the couch and blame homework when they do cross paths. Looking him in the eye is impossible, no matter how much he tries. She skips going to the gym, since he usually goes with her now, and hides out in the cafe downstairs, eating the too-hard muffins. When he comes in, she ducks into her laptop like she can hide behind such a small screen.

_ Oh yeah, you’re the queen of stealth, _ she chastises herself, rolling her eyes. 

Somehow, though, Jughead doesn’t notice.

He notices the rest of it, though, and leaves her notes all over the apartment like, ‘Can we watch some The Good Place tonight?’ and ‘Want me to take your laundry down with mine?’

But the last one hurts the most. ‘How was your day? I miss talking to you.’

Stupid feelings or no, he’s her best friend. They talk about everything,  _ everything _ , including the most minute details of their days. She can’t let this go on any longer.

When he comes home, still dressed in his mailman uniform, she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him.

He looks pleasantly surprised. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she says back, smiling at him.

For a long moment, he just leans against the door, and neither of them say anything. Then he ventures, “Are you okay? Did I… did I do something wrong?”

Instead of answering, or even facing the terrible hurt in his eyes, she asks, “This is just for money, right?”

“What?” He looks confused.

“You’re doing this for the money, right? Just for the money?” She wants so badly for him to say no, but she knows it’s unlikely.

Jughead shifts on his feet, and stares a hole in the floor. Eventually, he responds. “....No. That’s part of it, but… not all of it. Or even most of it.”

 

"Then what _is_ it?" She presses. She needs his response like she needs air to breathe.

"Betts, to be honest, I'm so deep in love with you that it hurts." There's a wild look in his eyes, and his chest is heaving like he's just run a marathon. "I would've said yes to anything that let me spend more time with you. Marrying you? Hands down, easiest decision I ever made."

Relief washes over her so fast, she goes dizzy with it, and tears spring to her eyes. Laughing and sniffling, she says, “I’ve been agonizing over this for months, Juggie. You have no idea how bad it’s gotten.”

Hope veritably leaking out of him, he asks, “How bad what’s gotten?”

“I’m in love with you too. I don’t want to be fake married, I want to be real married. For realz.”

He laughs at the Brooklyn Nine-Nine reference, voice cracking with emotion. Suddenly he’s not up against the door, but kneeling in front of her, taking off his beanie as he moves, holding her hands in his.

“I want it all with you,” she tells him, wiping a tear off his cheek.

“I – I –  _ Betty _ ,” he cries  out , tugging her into a bone crushing hug. His face is immediately tucked  down into her chest, his breath fanning out and raising goosebumps . “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Arms and legs wrapped around him, she feels like an octopus, but for once her insatiable desire to touch him is not a bad thing. “Yeah?”

He nods, hands splaying out across  her back. “Yeah. Jesus, Betty, sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you since the Great Tetherball Incident of ‘07. And not being able to touch you and love you the way you deserve, the way I want, has been torture.”

Betty pulls away just enough to kiss him. It doesn’t go very far or get very deep, but it’s definitely beyond middle school play action.

When they break a part for a breath, she says, “You kissed me when we were fifteen.”

“I know. I never forgot. I was just too chickenshit to mention it.”

“You’re not – “

“Betty, I’m serious when I say I could barely think about telling you I remembered without feeling sick.”

“Well, if you had… we could’ve been doing this a lot longer.”

“The biggest regret of my fucking life, honestly.”

* * *

They don’t tell anyone. Not at first, at least. They just want to revel in the amazing newness of their relationship, all by themselves. It’s hard to kiss and socialize at the same time.

Their rings go from their other fingers to their left ring fingers. Betty stares at hers for a long time, not sure how it can be real. How any of it can be real. Jughead catches her, and slips his fingers between hers, their rings clinking against each other.

“One day,” he promises, “I’ll get you something better. Something as good as you deserve.”

“This is perfect the way it is, Juggie,” she says back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Because it means that you’re mine to love. I don’t need it to be more expensive to say the same thing.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” He grins cheekily.

“Only once every twelve minutes. But who’s counting?” She quips back.

“Not me.”

At night, when they go to bed, they kiss for way too long considering what school will put them through the next day, but neither of them care.

Eventually, once Betty’s feeling used to the way Jughead’s lips feel on her collarbone and once he’s gotten used to her grabbing his ass, they decide it’s time to tell their friends.

They invite themselves and Choni over to Veronica and Kevin’s off-broadway apartment, and sit them all down. Archie apparently was already there, being his boytoy self, and he looks very smug as he sits on the couch, hickies up and down his neck and torso.

Kevin, despite feeling the tension in the air, looks Betty in the eye and pleads, “Do something about that before I combust!”

“Com _-bust_ _a nut_ all because of this hot bod?” Archie asks with a delighted cackle.

“I’m begging you,” Kevin says, ignoring him.

“I’d love to bust a nut on you,” Cheryl and Toni say to each other.

“Oh my god, can you stop being creepy just for the hell of it? Please?” Kevin demands.

“Um, actually, this is like a wet dream,” Veronica says, “My Archiekins, my gays, my best friends, and me? Hello?”

“Ew, Ronnie! Cheryl and I are cousins!”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “First of all, it’s not like you’re gonna get pregnant, and second of all, you’re third cousins. It’s not that bad.”

“Actually, it would be, because it would be cheating.”

“Oh, Betty, dear, we’re joking. Maybe you’ve heard of that,” Cheryl says.

“I mean, I’m with Jughead now.”

“You have been for like, a year,” Kevin says. “What do you mean now?”

“BETTY! Are you serious?” Veronica shrieks, shocking everyone but Archie, who just pats her bare knee. “You two finally boinked?”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been having sex?” Kevin shouts immediately.

“That explains the sexual tension,” Toni comments dryly.

“Oh god,” Jughead groans, running a hand through his hair and readjusting his beanie. “Listen, everyone. Betty and I got married for the FAFSA benefits but we’re both stupid idiots who can’t be logical for one second and see when we’re being flirted with. Anyway, we’re in love and I guess we’re staying married. Great, thanks, okay, let’s go, Betts.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Veronica declares, standing up. Her robe slips dangerously low on her shoulder. “I want to hear every detail.”

“Um, you don’t get to hear every detail,” Jughead retaliates.

“So you’re telling me that my cousin has been pulling the long con on us all this whole time, and we don’t even get to hear truthful details about your sex life?” Cheryl cries. “The  _ nerve _ of you heteros never ceases to amaze me!”

K evin and Toni nod along, and Kevin says, eyes going full puppy, “Betty, you’re like, my best friend. Please tell me how big his dick is. For real this time.”

“Oh my god, no! No, Kevin!”

“But you’ll tell me, right?” Veronica asks.

“No!”

“I’m running away,” Jughead says queasily, but Betty grips his hand tighter, not letting him get far enough away leave her here alone with these vultures.

Archie laughs. “She already got you on a leash, bro? Damn.”

“I’m happily chained to her, asshole.”

“ _ Whi-ipped _ ,” Toni sings under her breath.

“He’s not whipped!” Betty shouts at the same time Jughead says, “I’m fine being whipped!"

“What?” They say to each other. Betty’s lizard brain is telling her terrible things about whipping, in the meantime.

“I mean, I am whipped, Betts. Have you ever heard of me refusing you?”

She thinks back on it, and — “Wow. I guess you are whipped.”

Their friends laugh, and Archie asks, “Are we surprised?”

“No, but we are gay, and we need to be taken out to dinner now. Bughead’s treat.” Cheryl says, smirking. “When you lie, you have to pay the price.”

“Or, and hear me out,” Veronica says, “It could be a celebratory dinner?”

Cheryl pretends to think. “Hmm, no, I like my idea better. Anyway, gays? Move out. Varchie, go get dressed, you heathens. Jesus. Bughead, you’re doing amazing, sweeties. We’re glad you’re here. Even happier that you’re graciously paying for us to eat.”

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Jughead tells Betty as the room erupts into chaos. ”But for you, I’d do anything, even deal with all these idiots.”

Betty smiles and pulls him into a deep kiss, their friends be damned.

“Oh, when they do it, it’s fine, but when we do it, it’s  _ oh my god my eyes _ and  _ we’ll never get that stain out _ ,” Toni complains, but she’s smiling so wide it must hurt.

“You guys literally fuck on any horizontal surface,” Veronica says, “Not that I’m complaining, but – ”

“Let my cousin kiss her trash panda of a husband, cherie.”

Kevin says, “Meanwhile, I’m still single. How is that fair? How? Why do bad things happen to good people?”

“Oh shut up, you useless homosexual.” Cheryl rolls her eyes, standing between Toni’s legs. Toni is, of course, sitting on a table that has apparently materialized out of nowhere.

“How?” Jughead asks the air, well aware he won’t get an answer. “How does this happen?”

“You guys are literally magic, yet somehow I haven’t had sex in so long that I’m considering leaving New York and becoming a hermit who lives in a cave.”

“You’ll find someone someday, bro,” Archie says, strolling back in the room in his gayest clothes, inspired by Tan France (he finally got around to watching Queer Eye, thank god).

“Excellent French tuck, Archiekins,” Veronica compliments.

Betty looks from face to face, (to faces in the case of Choni) and feels like she might burst from all the love in her heart. And then Jughead says, “Tan would be proud,” and she can’t stop the laughs from coming out. She’s only had Jughead truly at her side for a week now, but she thinks life with him is just —  _ better _ . 

In every way.

 

 

 

END OF YEAR ONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This was almost the end of it all! Thank Ari for small mercies, though, small mercies in this case being bullying Dottie into making this a full blown fic!)
> 
> pLEASE comment Ari will respond as quick as homosexually possible. Dottie,,,,, not so much...BUT SHE LOVES YOU ALL DEARLY!!!!111!!!


	4. YEAR TWO – PART ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid dundermuffins come back from summer vacation as dumb and sexually frustrated as ever...
> 
> The gays keep on gaying at an alarming yet, inspiring rate.
> 
> OR
> 
> Bughead tryna fucc but life is like Sure Jan.
> 
> OR
> 
> Ari and Dottie try to stall writing a smut scene as long as possible because it's awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to our Minors of Meme

Betty’s first thought when she sees him in the lobby of their building is, _He’s so hot_.

Her second is, _I put a ring on that boy, and now he’s all mine_.

When he sweeps her up into his arms, lifting her off the ground and swinging her and her bags around with no problem, she wraps her arms around his neck and holds tight, squealing, “Juggie!”

“Betts, hi,” he laughs, slowing down and setting her back on her feet. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” It’s barely been a day since she saw him in person last, and they texted all night into the early morning despite the fact that they both had to get up at an ungodly hour. Still, she missed him terribly and she doesn’t care how stupid it is. “Come here,” she says, and promptly pulls him into a kiss via his shirt.

His hands land on her hips, fingers pressing into the soft skin there. It’s been way too long since she kissed him last (and yes, she knows that three days isn’t _that_ bad, but whatever).

Jughead pulls away before she can stick her tongue down his throat but tugs her body closer to his own, throwing an arm over her shoulders. She instantly feels more protected, even though there’s nothing to worry about here. Maybe, if they’re really unlucky, the too-hard muffins will turn sentient and start flying at people’s heads, but Betty doubts it.

“How was your summer?” He asks, smirking cheekily at her. They head to the elevator, walking in perfect unison.

“Oh,” Betty sighs, putting on airs. “It was awful. I barely got to see my husband at all, and when we were together, we were never alone. Have you met my husband?”

“No, can’t say I have. What’s he like? Is he good enough for you?”

“He’s amazing. So sweet, so kind, and so fucking hot,” she leans up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “it makes me _ache_.” Giggling at the look he gives her, she adds, “You’d love him, I’m sure of it. And to answer your question, he’s perfect for me.”

“Sounds like my wife,” he teases as they step into the already open door of the elevator. Someone stepped off the second before they get close.

“Oh yeah? What’s she like?”

She looks up at him, revelling in the way his eyes are sparkling. “She’s smart, and funny, and talented, and so beautiful it’s crazy. Actually… can I tell you a secret?”

“Always,” she breathes.

He leans down and speaks into her ear. “I’m seeing her again today, and I can’t wait to kiss her breathless.”

“You’re cocky, you know that?”

“Is it cockiness if I know I can do it?”

She pokes him in the side, tickling him. He tickles back, and by the time they finally reach their floor , they’re both giggling so hard that there are tears in Betty’s eyes. She slides the key (into the lock, this time,) and steps in, letting the familiarity and relief of being home and safe wash over her. Jughead steps in behind her, shutting the door gently.

“Home sweet home,” he says, looking around. Near the middle of February, Cheryl bribed the building into letting them paint the walls as a “wedding gift for my favorite hobos”, and they’re now a nice shade of gray. The couch has been replaced by a much more comfortable one that, according to Jughead, is reminiscent  of clams and orange cream sodas but also That 70s Show. The throw pillows are in an ivory and brown color scheme that Betty adores, and there’s so much artwork, like, even The MoMA is jealous.

Cheryl _Did That_ (and Veronica too, because apparently they are having a competition to see “who can sugar daddy Bughead more”).

One of them, Betty has no idea which one, had a skylight installed. Betty is starting to realize that she and Jughead can never move away.

Really though, Betty is just thankful that the disgusting rug that they stepped over for months before their friends finally threw a big enough of a hissy fit for their RA to shout, “Fucking fine!” and take it away during finals week last year is no longer with them, or with anyone. In Kevin’s own words, “Someone died on that fucking rug and it should’ve been burned a hundred years ago, _when it was made_.” Veronica paid for it to be burned, and paid extra so they could all watch. Toni laughed maniacally the whole time. It was wonderful.

“Let’s go get our stuff all unpacked,” Jughead suggests, though he’s eyeing their kitchen like a pointer dog. “Then we can find something to eat.”

“Sounds good,” Betty says, and marches downstairs.

The next several hours find Betty and Jughead doing just that – unpacking. At one point, Jughead offers to take her makeup bag up to the bathroom, but she declines, instead just giving him her various medicines, birth control pills, and tampons. He takes something up with him when he goes, though she doesn’t get a good look at it, and doesn’t ask when he comes back, hands completely empty.

“Wanna go get something to eat now?” She asks, well aware of what his answer will be.

“Boy, do I,” he replies with false cheer, though his smile is one hundred percent real. “But let’s go somewhere that’s not the cafe downstairs, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood for hipster coffee right now either.”

They end up finding a Subway nearby, and eat outside, enjoying the breeze. They don’t talk much, too preoccupied with their five dollar footlongs, though they both comment on the fact that it’s probably closer to six dollar 11-inchers.

Walking home hand in hand, Betty says, “We should test out the new couch tonight.”

“It looks like it’d be a great spot to experiment,” Jughead agrees.

“I know, right? I sat on it earlier and it was so comfortable. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

His smirk is so sly that it makes Betty’s heart beat faster. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Within the hour, they’re back home, barely dressed. Betty’s down to her camisole and shorts, as well as the unseasonably long socks that she loves too much to take off. Jughead’s relaxing in his own undershirt and boxers, and when Betty steps up to the couch, he tilts his chin down, eyes hooded. He pats his own lap, beckoning her to come and sit. With a giggle, she follows his orders, settling down, her back to his chest. He presses deliciously against her in all the right places.

“You sure?” He whispers into the night air. The feeling of his breath on her neck makes her shiver, and goosebumps rise up all over her chest.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want it any other way for our first time on this couch.”

“Cheryl will be furious.”

“She’ll get over it.”

He presses a kiss under her ear, leans forward, hand inching downward, and….

...presses play on her laptop, the sounds of High School Musical filling their apartment.

Betty pulls the popcorn bowl into her lap from the coffee table, molding herself to Jughead like  play-doh in the meantime. One of his hands curls around her thigh, while the other goes straight for their buttery, salty popcorn. They’re trying out a new “recipe” by adding several things that make it caramel corn. Jughead had been skeptical at first, but she can tell it’s already growing on him with his first bite. Betty is… unsure, so far.

She eats a lot of it, though, less than half since she’s sharing with Jughead, but more than usual. When it’s all gone, Betty licks her fingers, and makes sure Jughead sees her do it. Her lizard brain says, _Lick it good, lick his ahhh just like you should_. And then she thinks, _What the fuck is wrong with me_ , and pushes her terribly intrusive thoughts away.

They sing along to all the songs, and Betty enjoys the vibrations of his voice as he belts it out. Betty feels so utterly comfortable, that she actually tries to sing and sound good. When “Gotta Go My Own Way” is over, Jughead asks, “Have you been able to sing like that this whole time?”

Blushing, she shrugs, looking at him over her shoulder. “I guess so.”

“Why didn’t I know?”

“Well, you don’t like your birthday, so I’ve never sung it to you….”

“Maybe….” He shakes his head a little, and changes tracks. “I’d love it if you sang for me sometime, sweetheart.”

Shivering with delight, she says, “I’d love to, Juggie.”

They don’t say much else until the movie ends, and Jughead begs and pleads that they watch the second one with the deleted scene. She has no idea what the deleted scene is, and when he hears this, he says, “Ohhhh shit,” and leans forward to type on the laptop. Betty is pushed forward with him, and her fucking lizard brain says, _He needs to bend you in other ways_.

She can’t help but splay her hands on his bare legs, fingers tickling against the hairs and pressing in gently. Moving to cup the back of his knees, she turns her head and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“Betts, stop it,” he whines, voice a touch deeper, “I’m trying to find it and you’re distracting me.”

“Sorry,” she whispers, not feeling sorry at all.

He finds it quickly enough, but then it has to download, and finally they lean back and watch the loading bar inch along. Betty thinks about the saying that a watched pot never boils, but doesn’t say it out loud, thinking that saying it might jinx it.

His fingers ghost up her side. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to, uh, tell you – “

“Oh god,” she says, slightly louder, “Is this a bad thing? Do I need to be worried?”

“Um, no? I don’t think so. I hope not.”

“Wait, so you’re nervous to tell me about this.” It seems weird to her that he’d be nervous to say anything. He’s always been so confident around her, or comfortable, at least.

Jughead coughs a little, blushing high on his cheeks. “Yeah.”

It strikes Betty this is an Important Conversation, even though she has no idea what it’s about, and she turns around as much as possible so she can face him. One hand slides up to rest on the back of his neck, and the other rests on his chest over his heart. She meets his eyes and tries to convey that she’s not going to make him feel bad about whatever this is. Nevermind the fact that anxiety is rushing in her, creeping up her throat. “Okay. Okay. You can tell me anything, Juggie, and I’ll listen.”

His hands lay on her back, in a way that feels almost… possessive. Betty doesn’t think she would’ve liked it not too long ago, and might even not like it in the future – but right here, right now, just the two of them in their amazing apartment? She likes it. She wants to be his and only his.

He breathes in and out for a moment. “I’m… on the spectrum.”

Betty blinks. Oh. This is what he’s trying to tell her. It’s something she’s suspected for a while now, though admittedly she’s had her doubts since they moved in together. She knows better than to just say any of that, though. Gently, she asks, ”Which one? The color spectrum?”

He chuckles at that, and shakes his head. “No, no, the uh, the asexuality spectrum. I think I’m demi?”

With a giggle, she smiles and melts against him more, which is basically impossible, but she doesn’t want him to feel like she’s reacting badly. “I… I don’t know all that much about it, to be honest. Asexuality is feeling no sexual attraction right?”

“Right.”

“Well, you definite– I mean, I _think_ you do. Is that what demi means?”

Blushing again, he stutters, “What do you mean?”

“Juggie, we sleep in the same bed. I can feel when you’re… _aroused_ ,” she says, hushed with embarrassment. Or maybe lust. Or maybe embarrassment over how much lust she’s felt for him basically since they came here. “Is that, like, you, or is it just your body?”

“That’s – that’s – that’s me. Definitely me. Or really, you.” He suddenly sighs, throws his head back, and runs a hand over his face. To the ceiling, Jughead says, “God, I don’t want to scare you off but, I’ve never felt this kind attraction for anyone but you. Like, seriously. Before we became closer friends, I thought I was like, some weird version of ace, and then, well…. I don’t know. I’ve just never really felt like I wanted to, um, uh – “

“Do things with?” Betty offers, blushing madly at the images that come to her mind at the very mention of it.

“Yeah, that. I’ve just never really felt like I wanted to do things with anyone but you.” He eyes her face, and whatever he sees, it makes him panic. “Oh god, I freaked you out, I’m sorry I even... just forget it – ”

“No, no, Jughead – “ She waves her hand in the air, almost catching his chin with her nail in the process. “Sorry. Anyway, you haven’t scared me away. I’m your wife, I’m not going anywhere. This is not a – okay, I mean it _is_ big deal, but I’m not – I’m not angry or upset or anything like that. I am… _interested_ , in figuring out the, the bounds of this, but that’s not a bad thing. Um, have you – ?”

Reading her mind, he answers, “No, I haven’t really tried anything to see – well, all I know is, seeing other people naked doesn’t really do anything for me, but laying here with you is, heh, well….”

A smirk curls the corners of her lips, and she shifts, trying to feel if what he’s not saying is true. Somehow, the angle is bad, but she thinks maybe, just maybe –

When she feels it, she thinks about how brave he’s being, how close they are, how true  his words ring, and she thinks, _I trust him more than anyone else in the world_. So she tells him what she’s been putting off telling most people for a while now. “I think I’m a little bisexual. But like, just sexually, if that makes sense?”

“I feel like I’m not even heterosexual, I’m just _you_ sexual.”

“Cheryl would die if she heard you say that,” Betty says without thinking, a moment later adding, “But I support you one hundred percent. And I mean – have you seen Ronnie’s ass?”

Her blurted words make him laugh. “Yeah, I have. It’s a spectacular ass.”

“One of the nicest I’ve ever seen,” Betty agrees.

“So does that mean – ?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve had crushes on girls too, but it was never as serious as the one I had on you.”

For a moment, they’re both silent, just eyeing the other’s face.

“Have you ever – ?”

“Are you – ?”

“Oh,” Betty laughs, “You go first.”

“No, you.”

“I was gonna ask if you’ve ever, uh, _done_ anything?”

He stiffens for a split second, and then relaxes under her. “No, I haven’t. I was actually going to ask the same thing, though.”

Betty doesn’t feel a lick of shame or embarrassment when she says, “No. No, I haven’t either.”

“Well then…” Jughead says, grabbing his can of soda from the coffee table and raising it like he’s proposing a toast. “Here’s to a year of firsts, Cooper.”

Betty grins, grabbing her own soda and clinking the cans together. “Hear, hear!”

* * *

They all meet up at the off-Broadway apartment a few days later, once they’ve all settled in. Betty spends the entire subway ride in Jughead’s lap, showing him memes on her phone. Jughead laughs at them all, even when he’s already seen them.

The elevator in Kevin and Veronica’s building is temporarily down, so they have to take the stairs, and Jughead complains the whole time. “I don’t understand why we have to go all the way up to the frickin’ penthouse just to get harassed for our ‘white hetero nonsense’. Like yeah, we’re white, but we’re not het. Ew.”

“Sorry, Juggie, but you need friends other than me.” She giggles. “Also, Cheryl knows we’re not heteros, she just says it because it rolls off the tongue and helps her with her quips.”

“How does she know I’m not a het?” After their conversation, laying in bed, he confessed to feeling bi-curious, too. ‘ _I just don’t know if it’s me just admiring guys cause I am bi, or if it’s normal_ ,’ he’d said.

“Jughead, Cheryl has one of the most finely tuned gaydars I’ve ever seen on any human being, in all my years of existence. She could spot an LGBT person from ten miles away. It’s as beautiful as it is terrifying.”

“I’m definitely frightened right now,” he says, and then adds lightly, “By the way, your ass looks great in those jeans.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Mmhmm. I do wanna ask, though, how does Cheryl know you’re not straight?”

“Well, do you remember when V first came to Riverdale? And we tried out for the Vixens?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the reason I got in was because she kissed me and I responded way too enthusiastically to be straight.”

“Wow,” he laughs. “I’m not even mad. That sounds fun. High five, babe!”

Giggling again, she turns to give him the high five. Then she links their fingers together and says sweetly, “As much as I love kissing you, Jughead, Veronica can give you a run for your money.”

He playfully growls, “Well, I guess I’ll have to kiss you more, until you don’t even remember hers.”

“That’s impossible,” she says, letting go and walking up a few steps. Then she turns back around to face him, still standing there. Batting her eyelashes, “But I’m not gonna stop you from trying.”

Her wink makes him start back up the steps, and she hurries upwards with a squeal. By the time they make it to their friends’ door, they’re both panting like they’ve run a marathon, and she’s giggling at the fact that he never caught up with her.

He knocks on the door. “Betts, babe, I have no idea how you just did that. You’re wearing heels.”

Smugly, she shrugs. “If the lady from Jurassic World can do it, then so can I, right?”

“You can do anything. Hashtag feminism.”

The door swings open, and Veronica blinks at them both. “Hashtag what now?”

“Good boyfriends,” Betty jokes.

Jughead corrects, “Husbands, Betty, not boyfriends. Don’t demote me, woman.”

“Sorry, Juggie,” she laughs, kissing his cheek.

Veronica scoffs. “Ugh. Just as I feared. You two are disgustingly adorable together. This is a disaster.”

“You saw us together all summer.”

“But now you can act like you’re married, and it’s gross. Adorable, but gross. I can’t wait for the gays to see it.”

Kevin yells, “Toni! My credenza is not for your sexual escapades!”

“Leave us alone, you sexually frustrated Old Navy mannequin!”

“Get out of my apartment!”

“Kevin I-don’t-care-what-your-middle-name-is Keller, do not speak to my cherie like that!”

“Why can’t you do this at _your_ apartment, for the love of Oprah?!” He screams in terror, which Betty imagines was caused by whatever he saw.

“We can’t, you under-baked potato, we’re having the swing installed today.”

“Yeah, Kevin, we told you this like a week ago. Don’t you ever pay attention to anything but your fucking Tinder app?”

“Well maybe I would have remembered you telling me that if you weren’t the middle of doing something that would make the kama sutra blush on Ronnie’s second couch!”

“THEY DID WHAT ON MY COUCH? AND I WASN’T THERE FOR IT?! KEVIN! HOW COULD YOU, I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!” Veronica screeches from the doorway, turning completely away from Betty and Jughead. Her voice is ear-splitting. Betty honestly has no idea how she hasn’t been kicked out yet, and is also feeling slightly turned on. Jughead would never let her hear the end of that thought, she knows, so she tries to hide it.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Jughead groans, pulling a face. “I don’t think I can handle the full force of all our bullshit today. Is Archie here at least?”

“He’s on his way, Jug, don’t you worry. Now, come inside!”

She tugs them both inside with all the force a short person has. The apartment looks even more elegant than it did last year, somehow. Several things, like the wall decorations, and the books on the lone bookshelf, point to Kevin finally making his mark in his own apartment. Though really, all Betty sees is the way Toni’s lounging against the credenza, her lips swollen and hair messy.

She can’t help but swallow, and unfortunately, Jughead notices. Smirking, he asks under his breath, “You okay, Betts?”

“Never better, sweetheart.”

Kevin’s eyes swing to them. His face morphs into a much happier look. “Betty, Jug, hi! God, I missed you both.”

“We missed you too,” Betty assures, throwing herself into his arms. “You can’t go to Europe ever again, even if you get a really good internship.”

“I got really good dick, too. But frickin’ Choni refuses to believe it.”

“You called me at three am crying about how fucking Rafael-Jean-Baptiste-Pierre or whatever his name was wouldn’t put out.” Toni says, walking over. She and Jughead share their usual fist bump. “Y’all boinked in the new bed yet?”

“Why does everything have to be about sex?” Kevin whines, rather hypocritically if you ask Betty.

“What new bed?” Betty asks, stopping Jughead from saying anything like the fact that they still haven’t had sex. (It’s very difficult to when you’re mutually pining and stuck in a fake relationship, and then in a real one but never alone.)

“Oh,” Cheryl says airily, “I got you a new bed. Memory foam and everything. I expect to hear every detail about the sex you’re having on said new bed, by the way.”

“Just because you got it for us doesn’t mean we have to tell you,” Jughead tries, but Cheryl puts up a single hand.

“Hush, Hobo. Your voice irritates me.”

“I’m – ?”

“What did I just say?”

Jughead sighs and heads to the kitchen. He pulls out the box of twinkies and immediately starts eating one. Betty follows him, and he offers the box to her. She plucks one out, giving him a grin.

Kevin tries to grab one, too, but Jughead says, “Bro, what the fuck? These are mine now.”

“I bought them this morning, though,” Kevin whines. “With my own money. Are you telling me I can’t have one thing in my own home? One sacred thing?”

“Apparently not,” Betty giggles, putting her hand in front of her mouth so she doesn’t gross anyone out. Jughead hadn’t covered his mouth, but then, FP Jones didn’t instill manners deep into his son the same way Alice Cooper did to Betty.

Kevin throws his hands up in the air and leaves the kitchen, probably to go sulk in his room.

“Poor Kevin,” Veronica sympathizes. “Forsythe, give the twink a Twinkie.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t call me Forsythe.”

“Would you prefer Juggiekins?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Then don’t take his damn Twinkies without his permission, god!”

“He shouldn’t leave them out in the open, then.”

Kevin shouts from the other room, “They were closed in the frickin pantry, on the top shelf, hidden behind Ronnie’s disgusting wellness juice! You had to actively search for them to get them! Elizabeth, control your husband!”

“I can’t!” she laughs.

“Try, bitch!”

“Fine! I know something that will definitely work.”

“I doubt it, babe.”

“Juggie,” she says, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. One of her hands goes to his bicep. “Give Kevin back his Twinkies.”

“But I don’t want to,” he whines.

“Juggie.”

Jughead inhales deeply, and says, “Fucking _fine_. Kev, come get ‘em.”

Kevin prances into the room, smirking widely and snatching the box away from him. “Thanks so much, Betts.”

“Did you have to fucking sister snatch them away from me, you bitch?” Jughead demands, crossing his arms and sulking.

“Better that than a sister slap upside the head, bitch,” Kevin and Cheryl say at the say time.

“Shouldn’t you be getting topped by Toni somewhere?”

“That reminds me,” she claps her hands twice, as if beckoning her cherie. “Antoinette, my darling? The man called, and the swing is ready. We could go use it, but I see that Kevin’s bed is unoccupied.”

Toni’s eyes light up. “It calls us, doesn’t it?” In a blink, Toni and Cheryl are gone.

“WHAT THE FUCK,” Kevin screeches, dropping the box of Twinkies on the floor in his haste to get to his room. Jughead picks it up happily, taking several and stuffing them in his pockets. Kevin’s voice from his bedroom sounds out, “OH COME ON! IT WAS TWO SECONDS, HOW ARE YOU THIS NAKED ALREADY? I love your bralette, though, Cher. And Toni, your boots, wow!”

“Of course you do, you idiot.”

Betty bursts into laughter, and leans into Veronica’s side. “They’re – I don’t even know what to say,” Veronica giggles. “Actually, wait, I’ll be right back.”

Then she goes off to Kevin’s room too, whooping once she gets there.

“VERONICA! THEY MAY BE DEFILING MY BED AS WE SPEAK, BUT BOUNDARIES EXIST, DAMMIT!”

Betty steps over the Twinkies that fell on the floor, Jughead following leisurely behind her, picking up everything and either inhaling it or stuffing it in his pockets. “Betts,” he whispers, “Take this, it won’t fit.”

She grabs the offered snack and puts it in her own pocket, hoping her phone doesn’t crush it.

They get to the hallway, and Betty is suddenly face to face with Archie, who’s got sweat lining his brow, his most incredulous facial expressions making him look like the image of shook.

“Betty?” He asks, “What the hell is going on?”

* * *

That night, Betty finds herself sitting on the couch, listening to nothing but the sound of the shower running. Jughead’s singing, she thinks, but the  faint noises could be from their neighbors, too.

Her head rolls back on the arm, and she groans. All she can think about is the fact that Jughead is naked, right now, not even that far away from her.

She’s seen him shirtless many times before. Sometimes, he only wears boxers to bed. She knows what his body looks like, which doesn’t help her at all. It only fuels her lizard brain, which is begging her to open up the door and hop in the shower with him.

See, no matter how much she wants to do that, they’ve never talked about it in depth. She has no idea if he’d be okay with that, and honestly, she doesn’t want their first time to happen in the shower. They need to communicate before anything happens.

Speaking of, she hears the water shuts off, and suddenly the apartment is silent.

 _Do it now so you can fuck him later,_ her lizard brain suggests.

Jughead steps out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam behind him, with his chest on delicious display. Betty licks her lips unconsciously.

He smirks at her. “I’m gonna go get dressed, babe, be right back.”

She watches him go. In fact, she sits up and turns so she can watch his ass under the towel as he goes down to their room. It’s a wonderful ass. Kevin’s suggestion of squeezing it comes to mind. It’s like two beautiful buns. Pear shaped. Tempting. Round, firm, bootylicious even –

Jughead comes back up stairs, dressed, and Betty flushes fire-truck red. “Hi!” She blurts out. “Hi, I was just, uh, just – sittin’ here. Waiting for you.”

“You could’ve started the show without me,” he says, referring to The Office, which is queued up on his laptop.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

His face pinches. “Something bad? Do I need to be worried?”

“No! No, I don’t think so. It’s about uh, um, _us_.”

“That doesn’t stress me out any less,” he says lightly, coming to sit next to her.

She grabs his hands in her own, hoping the gesture will calm both of them down so they can have this conversation. “I promise you it’s not bad.”

It’s all she can think of to say, all thoughts fleeing her except the urge to blurt out, ‘Can we please fucking fuck already?’ Which is not what she wants to do. They’re adults now, they need to be able to have adult conversations and communicate.

“Betts,” Jughead starts, but suddenly she knows what to say, and interrupts him.

“So, uh, Toni mentioned boinking? And, to continue the conversation we had a few days ago, I was just wondering…. Can we, uh, boink? Is that an option?” Her voice raises with every word.

He blinks. Suddenly she thinks she’s ruined everything, that he’s going to say, ‘Why would I ever want to have sex with someone who calls it boinking?’ Oh god, that’s so immature, isn’t it? Toni only gets to say it because she’s in a deeply committed relationship, plus she’s model-level gorgeous, so it evens out. Betty may be married and pretty, but she’s not _that_ pretty, and surely Jughead won’t think that balances out.

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, I know that’s, uh, weird, I guess, but I _have_ , I can’t stop thinking about you, and us, and oh god, I’m sorry, I’m being so creepy right now – “

“Betty, Betty, stop it, wait a second,” he says loudly, readjusting their hands so hers are cradled in his own.

She stutters nonsensically, “I’m sorry, I know I’m not stunning like Toni so saying boinked makes me seem like a total child, and – “

“Elizabeth Cooper.” He squeezes her hands gently, completely at odds with his hard tone. “You are objectively gorgeous. And as your husband, I’m allowed to have a subjective opinion, which I definitely do. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You take my breath away. I can’t say no to your smile, or you puppy dog eyes, even if I wanted to. And I would be nothing short of the happiest man on earth if I could _boink_ with you.”

Betty bursts into tears, but they’re happy ones, and she’s also laughing her ass off. “Boink is such a dumb word.”

“I know, babe, I know. But now we can be total childs together.”

She jumps at him, arms going around his neck, and thighs bracketing his hips. “I love you, Juggie.”

His hands rest on her waist, thumbs smoothing lines up and down, up and down. “I love you too, Betts.”

Without thinking, she says, “You can totally put your hands on my butt if you want.”

“I do,” he replies, and does just that, each hand gripping her firmly. Suddenly, she wishes her leggings were shorter.

“Is it all you ever wanted?”

“Better.” He grins up at her, doing something so that his hold is different (and not in a bad way), and she gasps at the feeling.

“Juggie,” she says, half admonishment, half encouragement.

“Yes, wifey?”

“You should really take me to bed. So we can make out,” she adds, not sure if she’s ready to go all the way tonight, but certainly wanting to do something. Hopefully get her hands on his ass. Or have his on hers, without the leggings.

“You are so smort,” he says genuinely, pulling her closer to him and scooting to the edge of the couch cushion.

“Noice,” Betty giggles as he stands, wrapping herself around him tightly so she doesn’t fall. God, that’d be bad.

Faking like he’s crying, Jughead tells her, “You’re my dream girl.”

“You’re _my_ dream boy, Juggie,” she replies, “Now take me to bed.”

He gets three steps away from the stairs when there’s a knock on the door. They share a look, and Jughead drops her gently to her feet. Sighing at once, Betty looks down on instinct and –

“Uh, can you maybe get that? I’m sorta – “

“Yeah, sorry, babe.”

She steps around him, but he catches her waist and pulls her flush against him. In her ear, he whispers, “Don’t be sorry.”

Pushing at his chest gently, she giggles, “Juggie, stop it. Let me get the door.”

“Oh fine.”

Betty’s allowed to leave his side, and hurries for the door, opening it just enough to stick her head between the door frame and the actual door. On the other side is their RA, Michelle, looking bored as hell.

“Hey, Betty. We got a noise complaint for someone on this floor. You weren’t blasting Kendrick about fifteen minutes ago, were you?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’. “I’ll be sure to only blast Drake, or the sweet sounds of Enya.”

“Sweet.” Michelle walks away without saying bye. For a moment, Betty stands there with her eyes closed, hoping beyond hope the mood hasn’t been lost. But when she closes the door and turns back to Jughead, it’s to find him texting someone.

“Who is it?”

“Dilton goddamn Doiley, he locked himself in his panic room. I have to go help him get out.”

“Why you?” She complains immediately. “Dilton doesn’t even like us.”

“Apparently Moose is stuck in Midge’s chastity belt, or something, and Reggie is at Josie’s, and he said I was the next contact on his list.”

“Midge still has her chastity belt?”

“I think she’s wearing it to roleplay,” Jughead says, shuddering.

Without thinking, Betty jokes, “Well, at least we won’t be roleplaying virgins when we get around to it.”

Jughead laughs, going for his shoes. “You right, Betts, you right.”

“Well, come back as soon as you can, Juggie. I have a feeling the bed’ll be cold tonight if you’re not there to warm it up.”

He swallows, and says, “I’ll be back before you can say ‘chastity belt’.”

“Good.” She smiles. “Now, give me a kiss before you go.”

He does, not going for her cheek like she meant, but instead planting a sweet peck right on her lips. She clutches at his shirt, trying to deepen it, but he pulls away before she can. “I love you, Betts.”

“I love you, too, Juggie.”

Then he leaves, and Betty decides it’s a good a time as any to take a shower, and _test out the detachable shower head._

* * *

 

 

Late the next night, when Jughead is feeling sick because of some “fucking bacterial virus Dilton just had floating around in his apartment like a fucking alien spaceship”, Betty realizes something.

Her gasp makes him sit up abruptly, and he instantly puts a hand to his head as dizziness overcomes him again. “What? What’s wrong? Dilton butthurt still?”

She rolls her eyes, pushing at him to lay back down to the bed. He goes with all the grace of a baby giraffe. “No, no, I just – we’re _married_.”

“Did you just realize that?”

“Shut up, I meant, we’re married and we’ve never been on a date.”

“Didn’t we go to Pop’s without Archie that one time when we were ten?”

“Our parents were both there, we were just sitting alone. That’s a terrible first date.”

“Ah, but you counted it!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You just did. You called it a date.”

“Juggie,” she sighs, feeling world weary, “I’m just saying, it’s kinda ridiculous that we’re married and have been for over a year now, and we haven't gone on any dates.”

“We go out to eat all the time.”

“How many times have we gone out to eat alone?”

“At least several.”

“Jughead, be serious.”

“I am, Betts!”

“Then just say you’ll take me on a damn date, and stop hedging around it!”

He groans loudly. “Fine! Elizabeth Cooper, I’ll date you so hard you won’t even know what’s coming to you.”

“You already married me.”

“Exactly, so this should be easy.”

“Maybe if you could stand without almost passing out.”

“That’s fucking Dilton’s fault, not mine.”

“I know that!” She huffs.

“So why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not – I just want to be taken out on a date, is that too much to ask?”

Her voice cracks embarrassingly. _Fuck_ , she thinks, riled up over nothing she’s willing to admit to herself.

“Betts….”

“I’m gonna go do some laundry, I guess. Text me if you need me.” She goes upstairs, rubbing at the unshed tears in her eyes. It would be great if she could chill the fuck out.

“Betty,” Jughead says, too loud for him to be still be downstairs, unless he’s shouting at full volume. She turns, and there he is, sitting on the steps, blinking hard. One of his hands is clutching the handrail, the other clutching at his stomach.

“Jughead, you shouldn’t be up here right now.”

“What if I – no, no, nevermind. I just – listen, I’m sorry I acted like I didn’t care that you want to go out on a date. I do want to take you out, and give you everything you deserve, and I will. That’s a promise. I guess I just – I don’t know.”

“You guess you just what?” She asks softly, stepping over to him and sitting down. His words have already calmed her down. His promise is making her feel better. She can’t wait to see what he has planned.

“I feel like we already did all of that, you know? I know everything about you. We eat dinner alone all the time, and we used to do it a lot too. I was there when you were crying over Archie, your mom’s micromanaging of your very existence, and your dad leaving after the divorce too. I went to all the stupid school dances with you that you love so much because I wanted to see you smile, and we watched so many movies together at the drive-in and the bijou. Do you remember that day we spent playing in the snow when Archie went to visit his mom in Chicago, and just before you had to go inside you kissed me under the mistletoe? I was so happy that day, not even my dad coming home drunk and passing out on the couch could ruin it.”

He grabs her hand, caressing it with thumb, and bringing it up so he can press several kisses to her knuckles. There’s so much love in his eyes that it makes Betty’s throat tighten.

“We know each other so well, I just feel like we don’t need to go out on dates, do all that stuff. It feels almost – trivial, to me, but since it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, too. I love you, Betts, so if you wanna go on a date, we’ll go on a date.”

“Juggie,” she whispers, overwhelmed with emotion. “Oh my god. You should write a romance novel.”

He laughs. “I want to keep all of my romance for you, Betts, not millions of strangers.”

“Well, you’d make the big bucks, and I’m not just saying that. Though, as your wife, I get a subjective opinion, and I certainly have one.”

He smiles at her, soft and sweet. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re amazing, Juggie, and if you wrote anything even half as romantic as that, you’d have people everywhere begging for your autograph.”

“What about you? Would you beg?”

“I don’t have to,” she says simply, “Because you’re apparently the perfect man, and you’d give it to me, no questions asked.”

“Apparently?” He repeats, a joking tilt to his head doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s happy.

“Yes. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. And… listen, I do wanna go out on a date with you. I want to experience those things. But you’re right, we do know each other so well that they’ll be just for fun. We don’t need to ask any awkward first-date questions. I already know all the awkward things about you.”

“I don’t have any awkward things.”

“Jughead, I watched you pick your nose for ten minutes once. You didn’t have any boogers, either, you just wanted to reach your brain. I know _everything_.”

“I was five, Betts! Leave me alone.”

“You were adorable, Juggie. Now, let’s go back to bed, so you can start thinking up ideas.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he groans, and together, they stand up. He almost trips down the steps three separate times, but Betty’s there to catch him. And when he gets tucked back into bed, he doesn’t let her go back upstairs. Instead, they cuddle and reminisce over all the stupid memories they have of each other.

Betty can’t remember ever being so in love with him, not when they were five, or nine, or twelve, or fifteen, or even two weeks ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HATE THE SMUT IN CHAPTER FIVE SO MUCH WE JUST TRYNA WARN YA IN ADVANCE 
> 
> NEVER AGAIN FAM SORRY IT'S TOO AWKWARD OVER VOICE CALL.
> 
> Read and Review LOVE YA BABES xxx


	5. YEAR TWO – PART TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooooooo, Bughead finally boink, I feel like y'all wanted that but I could be wrong. The Gays™ are thriving, many a group chat, so many dick analogies, and Archibald gets ROASTED by CULTURED DUDEBRO! REGGIE!!!!!
> 
> OR
> 
> Ari and Dottie's favorite character finally shows up and they cry with joy.
> 
> [PLEASE WE KNOW IT'S BAD SMUT WE NEVER WANT TO EXPERIENCE THAT AGAIN asdfghkkfklfgadsafgld]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Izzie, our wonderful beta.  
> YOU A GOOD BITCH

After that night, Betty falls sick, and Jughead ends up taking care of her the way she took care of him. Thankfully it only lasts a few days, and neither of their workplaces or classes are badly affected. It hits Betty harder in some ways than it did him, and she finds herself throwing up for several hours two days after their conversation on the steps. He’s there with her through it all, even though she insists it’s too gross for him to see, and holds her hair back.

By the time she’s feeling better, she’s also absolutely _desperate_ to touch him, and to be touched by him. And maybe he could have his fingers in her hair again, but in a different context. A _better_ context.

He goes off to work on Saturday morning, promising to hurry when she whines and tries to pull him back under the sheets. See, he woke up hard, and they’re together now, she’s not obligated to avoid it, but of course, he has work. Of course. She sighs and rolls out of bed once he leaves, contemplating taking another wonderful shower or just waiting to see if they can do something when he comes back home.

Ultimately, she starts on her homework, having a good feeling that Jughead will be open to her advances later. She gets so caught up in it that she ends up writing half of a paper that’s not due for another few days. It’s going to need a ton of revision, but that’s what Jughead is for—they peer review each other’s work, just like the good old days in the Blue and Gold office.

Veronica sends a text around noon.

 **Veronica:** OMFGGGG I FINALLY SAW CHONI DO IT

 **Veronica:** BETTY I AM LIVING. THRIVING. ASCENDED. THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL. I FEEL LIKE I GOT TO SEE ANGELS FUCKING ON MY CARPET.

 **Veronica:** HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LOOK AT ARCHIE THE SAME WAY KNOWING WHATS OUT THERE

 **Betty:** Veronica omg calm down. Don’t leave Archie just because you saw some boobs

 **Veronica:** SOME WONDERFUL BOOBS

 **Veronica:** AMAZING BOOBS. ICONIC BOOBS. THE BEST BOOBS EVER, INCLUDING YOURS IN THAT BRA WE INTERROGATED CHUCK IN

 **Veronica:** IM SO FUCKING SERIOUS RN

 **Veronica:** ARCHIE CANNOT COMPARE

 **Betty:** V, you love Archie. You have for years.

 **Veronica:** YEAH BUT I LOVE BOOBS

 **Veronica:** BUT ESPECIALLY CHONIS COMBINED BOOBS

 **Veronica:** IM TELLING YOU, YOU NEED TO SEE IT SOMETIME. ITLL BRING TEARS TO YOUR EYES

 **Betty:** First of all, CHERYL IS MY COUSIN, and second of all, the only body that should be bringing tears to my tears is Jughead’s

 **Betty:** And Toni’s lbr but basically NOT CHERYL

 **Veronica:** MORE FOR ME

 **Betty:** Omgggg

 **Veronica:** Okay I’m calm now

 **Veronica:** How goes the boinking? The baby making? The horizontal mambo? The Devil’s Tango? Is Juggie a cunning linguist? Y’all partaking in afternoon delights? Amorous congress? Baking the potato? Tossing the salad? Belly bumping? Heavy petting? Buttering the biscuit? Feeding the kitty? Doodle-bopping? Sharpening the pencil? Do his curtains match his drapes, and if so, how long is the window? TELL ME ;)))))

 **Betty:** Jesus Christ

 **Veronica:** Veronica, actually

 **Veronica:** No wait

 **Veronica:** IT’S JASON BOURNE

 **Veronica:** Anyway that’s not an answer

 **Veronica:** Are you or are you not bumping uglies? Parting the pink sea? Jumping each other’s bones? Doing the hokey-pokey? Making your way downtown, walking fast, faces pass, and you’re homebound (to his dick)? Porking? Thrashing the gash? Two-ball in the middle pocket?

 **Veronica:** Are you doing it? Have you done it yet?

 **Veronica:** Have you had sex?

 **Betty:** No, it has not happened yet, but it doesn’t mean a girl ain’t trying

 **Veronica:** Do I need to beat him up so my best friend gets some diCK?

 **Betty:** Oh my god

 **Betty:** No

 **Betty:** Stop

 **Betty:** I’m deleting life after this conversation

 **Veronica:** You gone die a virgin then lmao

 **Betty:** MAYBE ILL FUCK HIM TONIGHT AND JUMP TOMORROW MORNING YOU DON’T KNOW YOU DON’T CONTROL ME

 **Veronica:** I know for a fact you aren’t going to jump tomorrow

 **Betty:** WHY

 **Veronica:** Because you have work the day after and Elizabeth Cooper has never had an absent day in her life

 **Betty:** Dammit my one weakness

 **Betty:** Attendance

 **Veronica:** Lmao

 **Veronica:** ANYWAY WHAT CAN I DO TO GET YOU SOME DICK

 **Betty:** Please make sure no one bothers us tonight, tomorrow, forever, the next century maybe?

 **Veronica:** Sending texts now

 **Betty:** Oh god what are you saying

 **Veronica:** “BUGHEAD TRYNA FUCK LEAVE EM ALONE”

 **Veronica:** No wait

 **Veronica:** “LEAVE!!! BUGHEAD!!! ALONE!!!”

 **Betty:** Oh my god why

 **Betty:** Why are you like this

 **Veronica:** It’s a gift

 **Veronica:** Also do you want to get dicked in private or not omfg

 **Betty:** I hate you

 **Veronica:** I love you too

 **Veronica:** Tell Jughead I said if he doesn’t give you at least 20 mins of foreplay, he’s done. HOWEVER if he fucks your ass good, I’ll take you both to Red Lobster

 **Veronica:** There’s some fuckin incentive for him

 **Betty:** I changed my mind I love you

 **Veronica:** I know bitch

Jughead walks in before she can respond to her best friend, and she gives him a bright smile that’s not tempered in any way but she finds it very hard—difficult—not to check out his shorts.

“Hey, babe,” he greets, coming over to press a kiss to her forehead. “You had lunch yet?”

“Nope. I was waiting for you so we could maybe go check out that place on Fifth.”

“Yeah, I’m down.”

“You’re always down, Juggie.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m down about this specific place, Betts. But first, lemme just….” He leans down, one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the arm behind her shoulder, and kisses her soundly on the lips.

Betty, admittedly, was ready and raring to go this morning before he left, and though the feelings subsided while she wrote a paper on some niche journalism thing, they come back full force. Really, she can’t help but tug at his uniform until he’s kneeling on the couch with her. One of his hands picks up her laptop and sets it on the floor, giving them seemingly infinitely more room.

His knees ends up on either side of her leg, and she gasps into the kiss as he presses deliciously against her. She can’t help but arch into the feeling, and then he’s the one gasping.

“Juggie,” she moans, sucking on his bottom lip.

“Oh shit, Betts.”

One of her hands tugs at his shirt, trying to pull it untucked, but struggling because his belt is very good at its job. Eventually, he helps her, and takes it all the way off, leaving her with miles of bare skin. Sure, it’s bare skin she’s seen many times, but never has she been able to touch it the way she wants until now.

Goosebumps break out across his chest as her open hands graze over his abs and up to his defined pecs.

Jughead tugs at her shirt, then, saying, “Fair’s fair, babe.”

He only manages to push her shirt up to the underwire of her bra, pressing his thigh a little more firmly against her and making sparks fly behind her closed eyes, before there’s a _very_ loud knock on the door.

“I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, COUSIN,” Cheryl shouts.

“Oh my god,” Betty and Jughead say at the same time, equal parts furious and embarrassed.

“Open the door, loverboy!” Toni adds.

“You’re taking us to dinner, remember!”

“NO!”

“Our dearest Veronica said something about Red Lobster.”

“Open the door or so help me, I will go all Solange in the elevator on your asses!”

“Why don’t you go do that to Veronica, she would die of happiness!” Jughead hollers, but he still pulls away from Betty. She feels bereft immediately, and has the childish desire to make grabby hands and force him to stay right where he was. Choni is stubborn, though, and the chances of them finishing this are slim. She forces herself to find solace in the fact that he has an obvious bulge in his amazingly tight shorts.

“If Archie’s okay with it, sure,” Toni laughs.

“NOW, COUSIN! Mama wants her Red Lobster.”

“Jesus, fine,” Betty groans, standing and fixing her clothing. They’ll know what she and Jughead were just doing—that gaydar has a matching sex-dar—but she wants to at least pretend they weren’t five seconds away from some form of sex. Finally.

When she opens the door, Cheryl pushes inside. She takes one look at Jughead sitting on the couch, holding one of the throw pillows in his lap (and for some reason, that revs Betty’s engine, that he’s so off his game) and his hair in utter disarray, and says, “Ugh. Seriously, Hobo? A boner? How eighth grade of you.”

“I’m a married man, Cheryl, I’m allowed to have boners for my wife.”

“Not in the presence of my cherie, you’re not.”

“Actually,” Toni says, throwing an arm over Cheryl’s shoulders and holding onto her like a sloth, “I don’t mind it. Plus, his wife is banging. I don’t blame him.”

“She is not banging, she’s my cousin.”

“Who is banging,” Toni and Jughead say at the same time. They air-five like children, and the pillow almost slips, much to Toni’s amusement. Cheryl just glares.

Betty, blushing, says, “Did Ronnie text you at any point?”

“Oh, the ‘don’t disturb Bughead, they’re consummating the marriage’ text? Yes, I got it. And now I wanna go to Red Lobster.”

“Cheryl, Veronica sent that text five minutes ago, how do you expect us to—“

“Ah, ah, ah, your ineptitude regarding your very vanilla sexcapades is not my problem. If it was hashtag Choni in this situation, not that I’d ever want to be in your situation, mind, I’d be on my third orgasm by now, and fourth piece of furniture.”

“She would,” Toni confirms smugly.

Betty bites the inside of her cheek, nodding in defeat. “Great, I totally wanted that image in my head.”

“Oh please, you’re welcome. If Jughead is done… with _that_ , can we go to Red Lobster now? I want some bread.”

Jughead sighs, bangs blowing up adorably. “You go down, I’ll be there in a minute. I need to change anyway.”

“Are you that easy, Jones?”

“No, _Antoinette_ , I just don’t want to go to Red Lobster dressed like the UPS guy from Legally Blonde the musical.”

“You’ve seen that?” Cheryl asks, surprised. “Hmm. Maybe you aren’t that terrible after all.”

“Just know I’m gonna be your cousin-in-law forever.”

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Hobo.”

He clicks his tongue and tilts his head bitchily. “Is it, though?”

Cheryl smiles in satisfaction. “Ah yes, good boy.”

Betty cuts in here, tired of watching them face off. “Welp, let’s go then. Juggie, we’ll be in the lobby, okay? Wear your nice jeans.”

“And please, no ‘S’ shirts.” Cheryl adds.

“I think they’re cute,” Betty frowns.

“Cousin dearest, you think that heinous beanie is cute. Clearly, you are delusional.”

“I’m—”

“No, she isn’t—”

Cheryl claps her hands after each word. “Red! Lobster! Now! Chop! Chop!”

Betty sighs, dragging a hand down her face.

She’s going to kill Veronica for this.

* * *

 

Betty wakes up to the bed squeaking and the mattress moving under her. She blinks against the bright sun, staring at the wall as she attempts to get her bearings.

Obviously, Jughead is the one causing all the racket, since she’s honestly still too sleepy to move. But she doesn’t know what he’s doing to make it move so much.

“Juggie?” She mumbles, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“Hi, babe,” he whispers, gently pulling her onto her back. His smile is way too bright for this early in the morning. “I had a really uhh, interesting dream last night, and I was wondering if I could try something?”

For a moment, she blinks, trying to comprehend what he’s actually saying. Then—“Yeah, sure.”

Jughead kisses her briefly, before pulling away and smiling again. “Thanks. I think you’ll like this.”

She huffs a short breathy laugh. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do, Juggie?”

“Try something new, like I said,” he smirks.

Then he crawls down the bed, already on his knees, until he’s at her feet. Gently, he pushes her legs apart, and immediately, there are thrills running through her. She’s heard about this, has thought about it many times, but she never really thought it would happen to her.

“Scoot up a little, Betts,” he whispers, and she hurries to do just that. Once he has more room, he lays down on his stomach, one arm sliding under her thigh and the other climbing up her leg from her knee. _Oh my god oh my god oh my god_ . Betty inhales sharply at his proximity, and whatever the opposite of her lizard brain is screeches, _Did you shower? Are you clean?_

Suddenly, she’s panicking. Oh God, why did she ever think she could have sex? “Juggie.”

He looks up at her, face somewhere between neutral and concerned. “Yeah? Everything okay?”

For a moment, she just breathes. He probably won’t care about the fact that she hasn’t shaved. He probably won’t care about anything, because he’s an amazing guy, and he’s never once made her feel bad about her body. So she breathes out, “Yeah,” and tries to relax.

He watches her for another moment, making sure she’s telling the truth, and then starts pressing open-mouthed kisses to her inner thighs. His fingers hook in her sleep shorts and underwear, sliding them down easily. Goosebumps break out in their wake, and she shivers in anticipation.

In a swift move, he pulls the thigh he’s kissing up and over his shoulder, then the other one. All Betty can think is, _He’s_ very _close_.

Jughead lifts her hips a little bit, pulling her even closer, and tips his head down, looking up into her eyes to get confirmation that she wants this. The lizard brain says first, _He’s locked and loaded_ , and then, _He’s the sexiest person on the planet and he’s about to go down on you. Holy shit_.

“I want this, Juggie,” she whispers. “Make me feel good.”

He presses another kiss to her thigh, so close it makes her shiver again, and says, “Always, Betts.” His free hand comes up, and then he’s touching her, gentle and exploratory and wonderful. She inhales sharply at the feeling, and he grins. “Yeah?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she tells him emphatically, laughing a little. “More of that. Now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jughead says, and then he dips his head. At first, she gets lost in the feeling, and he’s tentative, feeling her out, and it’s great but she wants more. Then he does something with his tongue, like he’s drawing a J, then a U, G, H, E, A, D, and she—well, it’s safe to say she _enjoys_ it. Her hands find his hair, not pulling at first, well aware that that hurts. But then he draws the ‘A’, and she can’t help it, has to clench. His eyes flutter closed when she does it, obviously because he likes it, and she thinks, _Oh my god_.

He writes the alphabet on her skin, and the pressure in her stomach builds with every letter, until he reaches N for a third time, and then she thinks she meets God. She looks ethnically ambiguous, neat.

Jughead pulls away then, dropping her jello-legs back to the bed, and has just hooked his thumbs in the hem of his own pajama pants when her phone rings. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’, which is Kevin’s ringtone.

“What the fuck,” Jughead groans, slumping over somewhat. To the ceiling, he asks, “Why now? Why right this second? Why, God? I was so close.”

When Betty looks down, she sees the massive tent he’s pitching and thinks, _Oh my god, he wasn’t joking about the eight and a half inches._ She’s felt it plenty of times, but never really seen it, and just… oh my god.

“It’s payback for the Twinkies,” she mumbles brainlessly, reaching out and grabbing her phone as it rings again. Picking up the call and putting him on speaker so she doesn’t have to hold the phone, she doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “What, Kev?”

“Somebody ride you hard and put you away wet?” He laughs, “‘Cause you sound pissed.”

“I was about to lose my virginity when you called, so yeah, I kinda am,” she says, glancing at Jughead, who’s— _Jesus_ —gripping himself over his pajama pants. God, she needs to be doing something about (or with!) that, not talking to Kevin! “What do you want.”

He’s silent for a moment. Betty entertains choking him to death. Then—“Oh my god, are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Jughead says loud enough for Kevin to hear.

“You two haven’t played a game of Mr. Wobbly hides his helmet?”

“What the fuck is with all of the euphemisms?” Betty cries out, throwing an arm over her eyes.

“Is that a no?”

“ _Yes,_ it’s a no! Now what the hell do you want!”

“Oh my god, okay, I went on this date with a guy named Sweet Pea, and he is _so tall_ , oh my god. _Tol_ tall, Betty. Like, you know how I make fun of you for being smol? This guy is a fucking Green Giant. And he was so awkward. He said he’s like, new to the game of dating men, and kept talking about snakes ‘cause he didn’t know what else to say. I told him to hit up the Irwins—RIP, by the way—and maybe google first date topics? Like hello, snakes? What was he thinking?”

Betty looks at Jughead, hoping to see a look of commiseration. He gives it, eyelashes fluttering as he rolls his eyes at their friend. She’s sad to note that his hand leaves his lap, instead splaying out against the sheets, fingers twitching.

“Could this maybe wait for later?” Betty asks Kevin, but she’s still meeting Jughead’s eyes. He nods, giving her a slow and soft smile.

“Well, I ruined the mood anyway, so might as well, right? There’ll be more opportunities to do the matrimonial polka.”

“I hate you, Kevin Keller.”

“Elizabeth Cooper could never hate a soul. Strongly dislike, yes, but not hate.”

“Fine, then I strongly dislike you.”

“It’s not my fault you picked up the phone! You could’ve made a magical sandwich while I sat here, calling one of our other friends since you didn’t pick up!”

Jughead says, “Well, we’re hanging up now. Don’t call us ever again. Bye.” He presses the button, not even waiting for Betty to berate him before he’s pressing their lips together desperately. “ _Fuck_ , Betts. If I ever see him again, I’m going to throw a box of Twinkies at him.”

“Instead of eating them?” She teases, arching up against him. Maybe they can continue on. Maybe Kevin was right; they shouldn’t have—

Jughead’s phone rings, playing ‘Party in the USA’, which she knows is his ringtone for Kevin.

“Ignore it,” he whispers, tugging one of her knees over his waist.

“Yes sir,” she counters, mimicking him from earlier.

His hips thrust forward wonderfully, and she lights up again, and _oh thank fucking god, they can still—_

‘ _I hopped off the plane at LAX_ ,’ his phone screeches again, ‘ _With a dream and a cardigan._ ’

“Oh my god. I’m really gonna kill him. I’m serious, Betty.”

“Stop talking about him while we’re in bed, Juggie,” she laughs, breaking off into a moan as he grinds down again.

“He’s forcing himself into it,” he whines defensively, but listens to her, and shuts up. His next thrust is particularly good, and Betty’s just about to suggest that one of them get a condom when there’s a knock on their fucking front door.

Jughead’s head pops up from her shoulder, turning in the direction of the steps. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

The despair in his voice almost makes her laugh. However, this is so not funny, that she groans instead, her head falling back against the pillow. She’s going to have to go get that. He’s in no condition, but really, neither is she. The evidence of her arousal is just a million times less obvious.

She looks down again, imagining the way it looked before they were wrapped up together, and thinks, _a billion times less obvious_.

“I’ll go get it.”

“Okay.” However, he makes no move to let her up.

“Juggie.”

“No, I don’t want to move.”

“Jughead, let me up. The sooner I turn away whoever’s at the door, the sooner I can come back to bed.”

“What if, and hear me out, you don’t leave the bed, and whoever’s at the door can fuck off?”

“What if, and _you_ hear _me_ out, we don’t do that?”

He moves then, flopping over onto his side of the bed. On his back, Betty can see the tent much better, and _god dammit_ , why do they keep getting interrupted? “You’re so nice,” he complains, “Why did I have to marry such a nice person?”

“Because I balance you out,” she says, kissing his cheek and hopping out of bed and pulling a blanket around her body like a towel. Her legs feel stronger, at least, though the thought of what she said almost two years before—about Jughead making her limp—is enough to have her gripping the railing. Her knuckles turn white. This had better be good.

Kevin is at the door, smiling brightly and offering her a box of Krispy Kreme donuts. “ _Hello_ , Lovebird. May I come in?”

“How did you get here so fast?” She asks, taking the donuts but not letting him in. Her husband just threatened him after all, plus she’s not feeling all that charitable. Though, at least half of the donuts will be for him. So maybe she does feel charitable, just not for Kevin here.

“I never went to bed last night. Went clubbing with Reggie and the Pussycats, and let me tell you, they know how to party. Even without the Jingle Jangle. Anyway, can I please come in? I promise I’ll be good.” He clutches his hands under his chin, and gives her major puppy dog eyes.

With a sigh, Betty relents, though she does direct him to the couch instead of downstairs. Usually, she and Kevin hang out on the fire escape, but it’ll be so much easier to get him out of here if he stays on the top floor.

“Listen Kev, I have a very attractive, very _aroused_ man in my bed right now, so can you please for the love of God and Gaga leave us the fuck alone, for like an hour? Please, I need this.” Betty pleads with him in desperation.

Kevin takes in said desperation, and jumps to his feet. “Say no more, Betty! I’ll get outta here. But I expect to hear every detail.”

“Like the fact that Juggie’s pissed at you now? And has threatened to hit you with a box of twinkies?”

“What?” He yelps.

“Yup. You should probably go before he comes upstairs.”

“Oh shit, okay, yeah. I’m gonna go find Ronnie and maybe she can distract Choni for the day.”

“Good luck with that,” Betty says, standing up with him and directing him to the door.

“I really am sorry, Betty, I thought you were joking. I never would’ve come over if I knew I was disturbing #Bughead.”

“It’s okay, Kevin, I know you didn’t mean it. But I swear to god, if you ever do this again, you are a dead gay.”

“Understood,” he says, stepping out. “Don’t forget to grab his ass! #Feminism. Toodles!”

Then he’s gone, and Betty’s running back downstairs. She almost trips, and does manage to stub her toe, but she doesn’t care. The lizard brain is a drill sergeant in her mind, saying, _Elizabeth Cooper, nothing else matters but the man meat in your bed. This is what we’ve been training for. Go go go!_

And go she does, right onto his lap. She clambers into bed, dropping the blanket and walking on her knees until she’s right over him, and then sits gently but not hesitantly.

His hands come up on her thighs, and slide up to her ass. Immediately, she starts to rock down on him, determined that this thing _finally happen_. He helps her with the movement, arching up as much as he can.

“No distractions now,” he says, more of a vow than a hope, “Or I will literally die.”

“I’m right there with you, babe.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe that,” he teases.

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Show me, then, _Cooper._ ” It’s a challenge, and not one she wants to lose. Not an unwelcome one. In fact, she’d say it’s _very_ welcome. The most welcome, as long as it gets her all the way with him, and _today_ . _Now_. As soon as humanly possible.

In his ear, she whispers, “Where’re the condoms, sweetheart?”

“Woah, woah, woah, excuse me! Are you implying that I’ll sleep with you? How scandalous.” One of his hands leaves her ass to clutch at this imagined pearls.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, Juggie. If we take any longer, something else will come up—a hurricane, a flash mob, a fire, _Archie_ , who knows? So just fuck me already!”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Jughead groans. “You’ll be happy to hear I thought ahead, and neither of us have to go upstairs for the condoms, because I have some in my bedside drawer.”

Deciding not to sass him again, she pats his cheek gently, and says, “Good boy.” He preens under the attention until she adds, “Now _get one_.”

They have to readjust their positions so he can, which is a problem because A) she clings onto him like a spider monkey, B) he doesn’t want to leave the bed even a little bit, and C) he’s so close that any little movement might ruin this before it even starts.

Eventually, they figure it out.

He touches her again, more sure this time than before, and slips two fingers inside. She clutches the sheets as he rubs at a particularly good spot, moaning and writhing. His other hand smooths up and down her thigh, grounding her to the bed with him. He makes her come that way, and then takes off his pants and underwear, and slides on a condom. The sight of him doing it sends thrills through her.

For a moment, he just sits there, staring at her. She gets self-conscious after a moment— _why isn’t he doing anything?_ —and asks, still breathless from her orgasm, ”Juggie?”

He blinks. “Sorry, sorry, I was—we should do it with you on top.”

“Wha— why?” She’s not against the idea by any means. Just curious.

“Deeper, and you can control it easier,” he says, then winks, “Plus, I’ve done literally all the work up to this point.”

She tries to slap at his chest playfully, but he’s too far away, so she doesn’t end up hitting him at all. “Juggie! Oh my god.”

“Is that a no, then?”

“No, it’s a yes.” She pulls herself up on weak arms, scooting over to make room for him. Laying down next to her, Jughead quirks an eyebrow, as if saying, _are you coming or not?_ She rolls her eyes and throws a leg over his body. The whole naked skin on naked skin thing is _amazing_ , to put it lightly, and it’s about to get better. “You ready, Jug?”

He nods, “Yeah. What about you? You okay?”

“Mmhmm.” She smiles at him, and he smiles back, and suddenly, Betty is more relaxed than she thought she would be. (All those images of a banana going into a cheerio have come to mind, and well, nothing makes her tense up more than that. Holy shit. But one smile from him, and it’s all gone.) Raising up on her knees, she gingerly positions his dick upright and then sinks down. He’s definitely eight and a half inches, not that she has anything to compare this to, but it’s _obvious_.

It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but the stretch isn’t what she’d call _comfortable_. Jughead’s hands come up to her hips, holding her without forcing her to move. When she winces, he asks again, “You okay?”

Breathing through her nose, she nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it just… it _pinches_.”

“It _pinches_? Last I checked, I didn’t have a crab attached to it.”

His attempt to make her laugh works. “Juggie, oh my god. You better not have frickin’ crabs.”

“I don’t, I don’t, I promise.”

“Good,” she giggles. And then, feeling braver, she experimentally rocks against him. He groans, fingers tightening, and the sound encourages her to move more, lifting up some and coming back down, squeezing around him. It feels good, really good, and so she does it again. And a again.

“Oh, jeez, Betts, you’re gonna—that’s gonna—“

“Do you have no control?”

“You literally came twice, babe, and I’ve been sitting here, _aching_ for you, and I don’t know if you know this, but you feel amazing.”

“You do too,” she tells him, picking up her pace. He sits up suddenly, an arm coming around her waist, the other hand cupping the underside of her breast. She gasps as he touches her intimately, caressing and squeezing, sending little shocks down her spine. At the look on his face, she laughs, “So? What’s your verdict, babe?”

“An eleven outta ten, would fondle again ASAP. It’s like they were hand-sculpted by god himself. Like seriously, your boobs are the eighth and ninth wonders of the world. When we’re done here, I wanna see if they’re as soft as they look.”

“They are,” Betty promises, leaning down to kiss him. He accepts it easily, licking at her bottom lip, his hands moving to hold her jaw and neck. Kisses are pressed down her neck, a hickey sucked into the soft skin behind her ear. Jesus, it’s amazing, he’s amazing, and she never wants this to end.

Sadly, it doesn’t last much longer after that, as he flips them over, changing the angle and making fireworks fly behind her eyelids. She doesn’t come, but she doesn’t think she needs to this time. There’ll be many more opportunities, and she’ll be sure to not let him off the hook in the future. Jughead comes, though, thusting hard and fast against her, moaning into the crook of her neck, holding her as tightly to him as he can without hurting her.

When all is said and done, they lay down next to each other, panting.

“That was fucking amazing,” Jughead says to the ceiling.

“Hard ditto.”

“I know I didn’t, uh, get you off, but I can still—“

“It’s fine, Juggie, I already came twice. _But_ , next time we do this, I had better come during the main act.”

“Oh, you will,” he promises, turning his head and giving her a wicked look. “Trust me.”

“Okay then, I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good, you should.”

“Yup.”

They both burst into giggles, and roll into each other’s arms. Jughead says, “You okay, though?”

“I’m a little sore,” she admits, “But it’s not too bad. You know what would make me feel better?”

“What?”

“Kevin brought over donuts earlier, and I never got to have one before I kicked him out. You should go get the box.”

“How about,” he offers, “I carry you up to the couch so we don’t get crumbs in the bed, and we eat the donuts while watching Stranger Things?”

“You’re so smort, Juggie,” Betty laughs, allowing him to pick her up and pull her out of bed. Naked, they go up to their couch, wrapping up together under the blanket there. Her laptop is set up, Stranger Things turned on, and donuts stuffed in their mouths.

Several hours later, Jughead is taking an afternoon nap, and Betty is curled up with him in bed, not wanting to be away from him just yet.

 **Veronica:** SO???? HOW WAS IT????

 **Cheryl:** Was he good?

 **Kevin:** TELL ME EVERYTHING

 **Toni:** Does he deserve a fist bump or a punch

 **Veronica:** HE BETTER HAVE FUCKED YOU GOOD OR I WILL FITE

 **Kevin:** SAME

 **Cheryl:** Cousin. Answer your phone.

 **Betty:** You all just texted me at the same time, my phone didn’t stop buzzing for a solid 30 seconds, how was I supposed to respond???

 **Toni:** Just answer the fucking question

 **Betty:** He was wonderful. He had to carry me to the couch.

 **Kevin:** HE WAS THAT GOOD?

 **Betty:** Very

 **Veronica:** BITCH!!!!

 **Cheryl:** Yass cousin get that dick

 **Betty:** Thanks I guess

 **Cheryl:** Speaking of dick, Toni, sweetheart, love of my life, the strap-on arrived. Wanna give it a whirl?

 **Toni:** YEET

 **Toni:** Wish Cheryl luck y’all I’m about to fuck her brains out

 **Veronica:** CAN I JOIN

 **Kevin:** JESUS VERONICA YOU ARE IN A MONOGAMOUS RELATIONSHIP

 **Betty:** DON’T DO THAT TO ARCHIE

 **Veronica:** BUT I WANT TO!!!!! **(≖ ‸ ≖ ✿)**

 **Toni:** I keep saying if Archie is okay with it, then come the fuck over

 **Cheryl:** As if Archie would be able to withstand the mental image

 **Kevin:** CAN WE GET BACK TO THE MAIN TOPIC HERE

 **Kevin:** BUGHEAD FUCCCED!!!!

 **Kevin:** WAIT I GOTTA KNOW DID U SUCC

 **Betty:** nO!

 **Veronica:** What the fuck why not

 **Betty:** He was too busy

 **Betty:** And then

 **Betty:** We got

 **Betty:** FUCKING INTERRUPTED BY KEVIN GODDAMN KELLER

 **Betty:** Jughead said he won’t maim you purely because of the donuts. Be warned to never do that shit again

 **Kevin:** You already warned me

 **Betty:** This time I have witnesses

 **Betty:** Spouses who kill together stay together

 **Toni:** True

 **Cheryl:** Antoinette, come to bed now, pleaseeeee

 **Cheryl:** I have a metallic red strap on ready

 **Toni:** GOOD LUCK WITH JUGHEAD GTGGGGG

 **Kevin:** I’m so fucking jealous

 **Cheryl:** Of course you are you walking cliche

 **Veronica:** PLEASE can I come

 **Veronica:** I will PAY you to be allowed to be there

 **Cheryl:** That’s not creepy at all

 **Betty:** THINK ABOUT ARCHIE

 **Veronica:** A GIRL HAS NEEDS!!! THINK ABOUT THE BOOBS, BETTY! THINK ABOUT TIT!!!

 **Betty:** IM A MARRIED WOMAN

 **Veronica:** Do you think Jughead would give a fuck? No, he wouldn’t.

 **Kevin:** Wait why wouldn’t he tho

 **Veronica:** #Feminism and also she has functioning eyes?? Of course they’re gonna stray to boobs. All eyes do. Especially when the boobs are gorgeous.

 **B** **e** **tty:** Veronica is right but

 **Betty:** Please don’t go with them I need someone to talk to about this!!

 **Veronica:** BETTY PLEASE IVE BEEN WANTING THIS SINCE DAY ONE

 **Kevin** : YOU! ARE! IN! A! RELATIONSHIP!

 **Kevin:** I’m just saying either appreciate your man or giVE HIM TO ME

 **Veronica:** YOU CAN HAVE HIM ON THE WEEKENDS HE’S FLUID LIKE THAT

 **Veronica:** I WANT MY GODDAMN CHONI

 **Veronica** : MAMA WANTS TO SEE SOME TITTY

 **Betty:** I WILL SEND U A PIC OF MY TIT IF YOU STAY HERE SMFHHHH

 **Cheryl:** Oh please cousin, like she’ll chose a picture of yours over mine and Antoinette’s in person

 **Kevin:** PLEASE NOT IN THIS CHANNEL THIS IS FOR THE GAYS I CANT TAKE ANY MORE OF YOUR NIPPLES

 **Toni:** You’ve seen me and Cher half naked before smfh get over it

 **Kevin:** I DO NOT WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU NAKED!!! I AM GAY!!! I WANT THE D!!! THE DICK!!! THE COCK!! THE PEEN! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!

 **Betty:** WHAT THE fUCK

 **Veronica:** ????

 **Cheryl:** Excuse me?

 **Toni:** What’s up?

 **Kevin:** DON’T SHAME ME BETTY I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYTHING

 **Betty:** WHAT DID I WALK INTO

 **Veronica:** Honey you been here whatcha talking about

 **Betty:** I HAD NO IDEA THIS CHAT EXISTED

 **Kevin:** JUGHEAD JONES YOU ARE NOT WLECOME HERE GAYS ONLY

 **Betty:** IM FUCKIN GAY

 **Betty:** DONT BE ACEPHOBIC kEvIn KeLlEr

 **Kevin:** SLKJFDLSKFJDSLK SINCE WHEN

 **Betty:** UMMM SINCE BIRTH biTCH

 **Betty:** I WILL F I T E

 **Kevin:** GIVE BETTY HER PHONE BACK JEEEEZUS

 **Veronica:** How’d you even get her phone in the first place

 **Betty:** She got out of bed and I woke up. She’s in the shower, I can’t give it back to her

 **Toni:** So.

 **Toni:** You have a total fuckin smokeshow of a wife naked in the shower what, like, 10 feet away from you? And you thought it’d be a good use of your time to text her friends and get in a fight with Kevin “I Could Arm Wrestle A Bear” Keller? Kevin “I Could Argue With A Brick Wall” Keller? Kevin “The Gayest Thing To Happen Since Platform Heels” Keller? Instead of joining her?

 **Toni:** I supported you but you mad dumb

 **Veronica:** Maybe you should join her dude

 **Veronica:** Maybe I should join her

 **Betty:** Keep your hands off my wife Veronica

 **Veronica:** Get ya perky ass in shower this instant or I will FUCK your wife bITCH

 **Betty:** I hate you

 **Betty:** BYE CHERYL YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO I LIKE NOW

 **Cheryl:** Oh god

 **Betty:** Too late love you byeeeee

Betty only reads the latter half of the conversation after she gets out of her impromptu shower, prompted by suddenly feeling gross. She’d never cleaned off the sweat, and once she’d realized it, she hadn’t been able to get it off her mind. Her intention had been for the shower to be short, but then Jughead had come in, and she was suddenly _very_ distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ AND REVIEW AND DON'T FORGET TO KUDOS
> 
> WE WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER


	6. YEAR TWO - PART THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CULTURED DUDEBRO! REGGIE 
> 
> CULTURED DUDEBRO! REGGIE 
> 
> CULTURED DUDEBRO! REGGIE
> 
> ..............
> 
>  
> 
> Oh and Bughead cute and the Gays™ are gay and Archie is an actual idiot.
> 
> OR
> 
> Ari and Dottie are getting drunk with power...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CULTURED DUDEBRO! REGGIE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
> 
> Love you Meme Minors and dear readers.

The second week of November proves to be very busy for them both.

Usually, they’ll sit down and eat dinner together, complaining about their days. Ever since their first date after the whole Dilton thing—eating at a fancy rooftop terrace place and coming home to watchdog vines—they’ve been doing it more and more often. It’s a nice release, and no matter where they are, Betty feels relaxed around him. Relaxed enough to complain about things she would previously only have told Kevin or Veronica.

But this week, she can’t tell him about any of it, because they barely see each other.

Betty picks up her coworker’s shifts, unable to say no to them when they explained the situation (their grandmother was in the hospital, and though they thought she’d be fine, they wanted to be there anyway). The cold weather blows in suddenly, which means that there are a lot more people coming to Jeffree’s for tune-ups and engine changes and the like. It inundates her, and she comes home exhausted every day, barely energized enough to kiss Jughead goodnight before falling into bed. She often skips lunch, and dinner is eaten at the garage with her coworkers, almost always pizza from the nearest place.

She has so much work, in fact, that she has to skip several of her classes. She gets the notes from some of the friends she’s made, but they’re practically illegible or don’t make sense. On Thursday night, she stays up late, surviving off of coffee and Jesus, rewriting all of the notes. Jughead tries to stay up with her, but he just ends up distracting her too much and going to bed. Tears sting her eyes when he does, not because she blames him, but because she misses him terribly.

Jughead has more work, too, but really, it’s his classes that keep him busy. He has books to read, books to write, homework to do, people to please. There’s so much to do, all the time, and then Toni asks him to model for her—“I need a dude, and Kevin won’t do it because he’s a little bitch”—which turns out to be a disaster. She tells him, apparently, that he’s terrible at it, and his only saving grace is that he’s so pretty. He comes home and sulks for hours, and by the time Betty hears about all of this, it’s long over. Plus, it’s Cheryl who tells her, not Jughead.

By the time Friday night rolls around, Betty and Jughead are too tired to go on a date, or even to go see Josie and the Pussycats perform, though Betty makes sure that their love and support are sent, via Veronica of course.

On Saturday morning, Betty wakes up with the sun in her eyes. She groans and tries to hide under the blankets, but it gets too hot almost immediately. Groaning, she stumbles out of bed, pulling one of the extra blankets off the end of the bed and heading for the fire escape.

“Babe?” Jughead calls just before she opens the window. He turns around in bed, from his stomach to his back, and peers at her over the fluffy comforter. “Betty?”

“Right here, Juggie. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Mmm, too late. Where ya goin’?”

“Just to sit out on the fire escape. Go back to sleep, though, sweetheart. It’s too early to be up.”

“Oh no, Betts, you are coming here under the blankets with me, and we’re gonna cuddle, ‘cause I miss you.”

“It’s too hot,” she whines.

“ _Yeah_ , you are,” Jughead jokes. Then, with a sigh, he flings the comforter off and makes his way over to her. “Let’s go sit, then, but we’re def coming back in and cuddling.”

“Juggie, we’re gonna cuddle out here. Actually, bring one of the pillows.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, armed with a pillow and blanket, they sit up against the building. Well, Jughead is sitting against the building, Betty is laying on him, his breathing calming her down. Her eyes stay closed, even though the sunrise is pretty. She just wants to savor being with him, touching him, _loving_ him. One of his hands lays on top of the blanket, but the other is rubbing her back up and down. She feels so at peace after such a hectic week that nothing could bring this moment down.

“Do you remember the last time we were out here like this?” Jughead asks, voice hushed. The world around them is loud, even at the early hour, but they’re in their own little bubble. It feels like speaking too loudly will burst it.

“Yeah. I remember making a fool of myself.”

“Betts, baby, you definitely did not make a fool of yourself. I was already so in love with you, there was nothing you could’ve done at that point to change my mind.”

“You were?”

“I told you, it’s been since the Great Tetherball Incident of ‘07.”

She blushes at the mention of it, hiding her head in his chest. “I thought we said we were going to forget that ever happened.”

“How can I, when that’s when I realized you were the one for me?” He teases gently.

She just grumbles, not really mad at all.

“At that point, though, I was so in love with you, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. When I woke up, I thought, heh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

“Juggie….”

“And then you laid on me and said, ‘Warm me up, Juggie’, like a fucking pin-up girl from the fifties. You _know_ retro Americana is my weakness. How dare you, honestly. And I know that the whole thing embarrassed you, but listen, Betts, if I hadn’t already been gone on you, that would’ve sealed the deal.”

“I wasn’t just embarrassed, I thought I ruined it all,” she tells him, muffled by his chest still. “I almost cried.”

“Aww, Betts,” he whines, tugging her closer to him. They’re already practically one person, but she enjoys his efforts. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Things worked out pretty well in the long run.”

“Yeah, they really have. I get to be with the love of my life, and warm her up whenever she wants me to.”

“I wanted you to warm me up this whole week,” she complains sadly. All week, all she’d really been able to think about is how much she was missing him. Over the summer, they’d basically attempted to spend every moment they could together, so unused to not living in the same place, not sleeping in the same bed. Often, they’d been with their friends, or their parents, but they’d still seen each other. They’d still talked about anything and everything. This past week, there was none of that, and it had upset her a lot. She’s still upset, honestly, but being in his arms is making it better.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says again, his other hand slipping under the blanket to rest on her hip. “We have all weekend to make up for it.”

“Juggie.”

“What?”

“I’m your wife, I know what you mean by that.”

“I meant cuddling, actually, but if you wanna go do other things, I don’t mind at all.”

“Of course not.”

“Betts.”

“What?”

“I’m your husband, I know what you mean by that.”

“And what did I mean?”

“That you’re projecting onto me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are.”

“No,” she whines.

“Betty, it’s okay if you wanna _boink_. That’s within your rights. Just say the word, and we can go inside.”

“I don’t want to boink, I want to be close to you. God!”

“I don’t know if you know this, but boinking would bring us very close. So close, in fact, that I’d literally be inside you.”

“I hate you,” she informs him, but she’s smiling so wide, there’s no effect.

“I love you too, Betts. Now, how about we go inside? We can cuddle or boink, or nap, or watch one of our shows. Whatever you want.”

She takes a moment to think, recalls the dream she’d had two nights ago, and says, “Boink. Definitely boink.”

His laughter only reaffirms her choice.

* * *

November ends with a text from Kevin, sent to their group chat.

**Kevin:** DO YALL REMEMBER SWEET PEA

**Cheryl:** The boy who wouldn’t stop talking about fucking snakes?

**Veronica:** Yee of course

**Betty:** Yeah

**Jughead:** No?

**Jughead:** Okay wait yes I do, Betts told me

**Archie:** Yes

**Toni:** Oh god yes lol

**Kevin:** I WENT OUT WITH HIM AGAIN

**Kevin:** IT WAS WORSE

**Veronica:** HOW

**Toni:** LMAOOOO

**Kevin:** HE SAID HE KNOWS YOU, TONI FUCKING TOPAZ. WHICH IS INTERESTING BECAUSE YOU’VE NEVER MENTIONED HIM.

**Toni:** Yeah I know him, he was a Serpent Kev, why wouldn't I know him

**Cheryl:** Oh yes I remember Sweet Pea. That guy has more leg than an entire Rockette line up

**Kevin:** JEEBUS CRUST

**Kevin:** IM GOING TO BED IM TOO GAY FOR THIS WORLD ANYMORE

Jughead, still in his mailman uniform, laughs and asks aloud as he types it, “What are we gonna do with you, Kev?”

**Kevin:** THIS IS TONI’S FAULT JUGHEAD NOT MINE

**Kevin:** IM TRAUMATISED

**Veronica:** I’ll hook you up with someone

**Veronica:** His name is Fangs and he’s great

**Kevin:** OH HELL NO NOT AGAIN YOU SATAN WITCH

**Veronica:** Kevin wtf he’s a nice boi and he’d fuck you good

**Kevin:** HIS NAME IS FANGS

**Kevin:** TONI DO YOU KNOW THIS BOI

**Toni:** Yup

**Kevin:** NOT INTERESTED THEN

**Betty:** Kevin how about a guy named Chuck?

**Kevin:** Any of yall know a Chuck?

**Archie:** I think my dad’s cousin is named that but he’s like, 50, and lives in Canada

**Betty:** This boi is our age and very pretty

**Jughead:** I’m right here

**Betty:** Juggie of course I think you’re pretty that’s not a question

**Jughead:** Oh my god

**Jughead:** You didn’t say prettiest

**Jughead:** This is grounds for divorce I’m just saying

Betty cackles at that, quickly texting back.

**Betty:** You just can’t compare with all the beautiful ladies in this chat

**Jughead:** I’m wounded. WIA. There’s no coming back from this.

**Veronica:** Stop being dramatic and fuck your wife

**Jughead:** Jokes on you I have work

**Toni:** That’s not funny. Betty deserves the D all day every day

**Jughead:** There’s not enough time or I would smh

**Betty:** V come hang out with me so I don’t have to be alone

**Veronica:** I CAN’T YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

**Kevin:** HWY NOT I CANT HANDLE ANY BUGHEAD FLUFF RN SO ITS UP TO YOU

**Veronica:** ARCHIE FINALLY SAID I COULD JOIN CHONI

**Betty:** KLJFSKDNNJNJNJNDJAUHFDDSABBFJ

**Archie:** I DID AND HERES WHY

**Archie:** THEY DON’T HAVE DICKS SO THEY CAN’T FUCK HER BETTER THAN ME

**Jughead:** Archie omg

**Betty:** Archie

**Veronica:** Archiekins….

**Toni:** Archie dude. I’ve got some bad news for you.

**Cheryl:** Archibald “Justin Gingerlake” Andrews what in god’s green earth makes you think that you could pleasure a woman better than another woman can?

**Cheryl:** Veronica, you’re welcome anytime sweetheart, you poor poor soul

**Toni:** Oh lmao I was gonna tell him we got dicks bigger than he can even dream of but that too

**Betty:** Bigger Dick Energy

**Veronica:** Oh Cheryl, Toni, thank you, you’re dolls

**Veronica:** Can’t wait to fuck you senseless

**Jughead:** Oh that’s funny you think they’re gonna let you

**Jughead:** Amirite, Toni?

**Toni:** Yep

**Toni:** You’re gonna be locked in the sex swing, enjoy that lmao

**Archie:** Oh fuck what have I done

**Cheryl:** It’s too late now, she’s already here. BYEEEE

**Betty:** Oh my god

**Kevin:** I canNOT BREATHE

**Jughead:** It’s too riveting

**Betty:** The most riveting

**Kevin:** Very that statement Elizabeth

**Archie:** I hate all of you

**Betty:** It’s your own damn fault you fuckboi

**Jughead:** LMAO at least my wife gets to orgasm before I put it in boiii

**Kevin:** IM SO JELLY BUT ALSO PROUD

**Kevin:** GOOD ON YOU JUG

**Kevin:** #FEMINISM

**Betty:** Poor Ronnie

**Kevin:** 3 years and no foreplay???

**Jughead:** Sad

**Betty:** What are you gonna do in the meantime

**Jughead:** prolly work out until he can’t feel his arms anymore

**Kevin:** Probably work out until he can’t grow another ab

**Archie:** YOU CAN GROW MORE ABS????

**Betty:** …

**Betty:** …

**Betty:** …

**Betty:** Archie why??

**Jughead:** Too many proteins

**Betty:** No enough brain cells

**Kevin:** Too worried about the gorls to waste time on growing more brain cells

_Jughead added Reggie to the chat._

**Reggie:** Dude

**Reggie:** Why are you so stupid smh

**Reggie:** The brain is a muscle too

**Reggie** : You gotta work it out. Math is a good starting place

**Reggie:** It’s just as important as leg day

**Reggie:** Dude,,,, your brain is vital bro, it helps you get swole for your soul dude.

**Reggie:** Also ofc Ronnie is gonna go fuck Choni they actually know what the clit is smfh

**Jughead:** I have never

**Jughead:** Literally never

**Jughead:** Seen someone be dragged this fucking hard

**Betty:** ARCHIE YOUR WEAVE

**Kevin:** LKFDSNNJFNAKJ

**Kevin:** NDJFDSBSDBISDUBFKASDJSALHFODUSFNSADKJN

**Kevin:** ARCHIE ANDREWS FOUND DEAD IN MIAMI

**Betty:** RUMORS SAY HIS WIG GOT TOOKETH BY TINASHE

**Archie:** Who tf is Tinashe

**Archie:** I don’t have a weave god

**Jughead:** Bro is that all you can say wtf

**Reggie:** Jesus Christ man

**Betty:** Who wants to bet V is having the time of her fucking life right now

**Kevin:** Very that statement

**Jughead:** She’s prolly on her fifth orgasm by now lbr

**Kevin:** You right. My gay senses are tingling

**Jughead:** We love that for her

**Archie:** GUYS WTF

**Reggie:** Archie dude, bro, broski, it’s important to balance your mind and your body, one can’t work without the other dude. You need to center yourself and like, look within your own insecurity to truly be free and present with your girlfriend. It’s unfair for her to constantly like, wait for you to catch up to her lady boss self. Just because you got hella gains doesn’t mean you can’t get gains for your brain.

**Reggie:** Like, dude, in today’s society you have be open to communication between your partners and relationships so it can like flourish and grow into a beautiful union of minds, bodies, and souls, bro.

**Reggie:** So, get swole for your soul fam. Ya feel Jugbro?

**Jughead:** Wow, yeah Reggie. Never thought I’d say this but, yeah

**Kevin:** You know what that is? Growth.

**Betty:** Now I see why Josie keeps you around

**Reggie:** Yeah dudette, ever since I started going to yoga with her the instructor suggested that we take time out of our day to openly communicate and stuff. I feel enlightened af fam. I always thought girls were so hard to understand, but in reality they’re all just complex beings like anyone else who know what they want and will tell you if you just take the time to listen and absorb what they’re like, actually saying. It was a sobering moment for real.

**Archie:** I have no idea wtf you just said

**Reggie:** God Archie you are such simpleton dude.

**Reggie:** Abs are temporary but a well balanced mind is forever bro.

**Kevin:** Reggie are you open to having a third person in your relationship aka me? PLEASE

**Reggie:** I’m flattered bro, but, I’m a one woman guy and Josie is my queen, can’t disrespect the queen.

**Jughead:** Reggie that is so dang sweet wtf who gave you the right to be this swole and wholesome?

**Betty:** Yeah when did you get so Swolesome?

**Jughead:** I love you so much right now Betts

**Kevin:** I have never felt so okay with being rejected.

**Reggie:** We have a really good Yogi. He really puts things into perspective, and that reminds me

**Reggie:** Jughead, I apologize for being such an asshole to you in highschool. I was just jealous of your writing skills and your ability to express yourself through something that wasn’t physical aggression. It was totally uncool dude, I hope you find it within your heart to accept my sincerest apologies.

**Kevin:** wow

**Reggie:** Jughead, Jugbro are you there?

**Kevin:** Jughead?

**Betty:** Sorry guys Jughead just started crying, he accepts your apology Reggie, and that was very sweet of you

**Jughead:** That was amazing bro, you can come over anytime you want, we can play Mario Kart and have pizza

**Archie:** WHAT THE HELL JUGHEAD? YOU DON’T EVEN LET ME DO THAT!!!

**Jughead:** WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T A DOUCHE ALL THE TIME I WOULD!

**Archie:** Ok fair...

* * *

 

The “Kevin’s Tour de Dique” group chat keeps buzzing for several days as Kevin goes on date after date. Then, in early December, Kevin comes over while Jughead’s on his route, and they sit on the couch, sipping mimosas Betty made from home, painting their toenails. Betty’s chosen a pretty blue, while Kevin is using her favorite purple.

“So, how was Chuck?”

“Oh my god, Betty, he was beautiful but all he wanted to talk about was football and church. Apparently he’s on a scholarship at NYU. And listen to this, he actually likes going to church. It’s not an obligation. He genuinely enjoys it. Which, like, all the power to him, god bless, but… yikes.”

“He’s not that bad, jeez.”

“You’re right, I guess.”

“Then why’s that a deal breaker?”

“Because, Elizabeth, if I’m in a relationship, I would like to be the only he goes on his knees for.” He winks obnoxiously.

Betty giggles, shaking her head. “Okay, so who was next?”

“Moose Mason.”

“Moose MASON? As in, Midge Klump’s Moose Mason?”

“Yeah, but he wanted me to join them in bed, and I’m not about that life.”

“You literally asked Reggie if you could be their third, but okay, go off, sis.”

“Excuse you, I’m not about to have a threesome with someone who has a chastity belt!”

“She only has it so they can roleplay!”

“That’s even worse, Betty!”

“Don’t kinkshame them!”

“Oh, no no no, Elizabeth, kinkshame I do not. This is genuine fear we’re talking about.”

“It’s just a chastity belt, Kev.”

“You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“No?”

“One word: teeth.”

Betty squeals in disgust at that. “Oh no! Oh god no!”

“Yup. And he was so sincere. I had to turn down Moose Mason’s fucking puppy dog eyes. God, I feel like such a piece of shit, but I just _cannot_ do all that. Too messy.”

“Okay fine, who was next?”

“Trev Brown. Melody’s brother.”

“Ooh, he’s nice! And cute. You two going on another date soon?”

“Um, I don’t think so, Betts. He’s a service bottom.”

“Oh, okay. That’s valid. Who after him?”

“Dilton! Dilton fucking Doiley! I don’t have to explain why that’s never going to work out, ever. After him was this guy Jason Not-Blossom, and he was so fucking creepy. Like, we’re talking Sabrina’s cousin level creepy. Holy shit.”

“Jesus, Kev, that sucks. What are you gonna do now? Try another dating site?”

“No, god, I can’t take it anymore. I think -- I’m desperate enough. It’s time.”

“ _NO_ ,” she gasps.

“Yes, Betty.” Without saying anything else, he pulls his phone out of his (very tight) pocket, and dials a number. “Veronica? Call your boy Fangs. I’m taking him out on a date at his earliest convenience. Tell him to expect sex. I can’t stand this dry spell any longer. My hand is so tired, V! So, so, _so_ tired!”

Betty hears Veronica’s voice on the other line, but can’t quite make out what she says.She thinks it’s positive, though, since she can hear screaming.

“Thanks, betch! I’ll call you later. Toodles!”

When he gets off the phone, Betty asks seriously, “Is it worth it?”

“ _So_ tired, Betty. I have nothing left to lose.”

“Godspeed, sir. I expect to help you get ready.”

“Oh, definitely. Now! Are your nails dry, ‘cause we’re going to the nearest Tom Ford! Come on, Veronica’s Black American Excess card calls me!”

“Let me just leave a note for Juggie and then we can go.”

“You two are adorable,” he coos.

“I know.” She swiftly writes the note, saying simply, ‘Going out shopping with Kev, he’s finally getting some dick, LOVE YOU <3’.

“And so humble, too.”

“Very,” Betty says easily, slipping on some shoes and grabbing her purse. “Let’s go, Kev. You’re taking me to Gucci.”

“Gucci? Betty, I said Tom Ford.”

“Yeah, Tom Ford and then Gucci. Mama wants a fanny pack. Let’s go.”

* * *

**Veronica:** BETTY 911

**Veronica:** 911

**Veronica:** 911

**Veronica:** 911

**Veronica:** 911

**Veronica:** BETTY CODE CHARTREUSE

Betty groans, dialing her number as soon as she sees the texts. The moment it stops ringing, she demands, “What the hell is going on?”

“I SAID CODE CHARTREUSE, WOMAN!”

_“Oh shit! Fuck! Shitting fuck!”_ The lizard brain starts screeching.

Jughead looks up from his book, alarmed. “What the fuck?”

She waves a hand at him, jumping to her feet. She puts on the nearest shoes, a pair of Jughead’s slippers, screaming into her phone, “What the fuck, what the fUCK, WHAT THE FUCK!” All the way upstairs, through the door, into the elevator, and out through the lobby, she continues to scream.

The whole time, Veronica is wailing, “I know, I know, I know! What the fuck! What the fucking fuck!”

Betty only pauses to hail a cab, then keeps on swearing. She screams Veronica’s address, and the cabbie speeds off, eyes so wide they’re about to pop out of his head. Very belatedly, she realizes she’s not wearing a bra. Fuck.

“Veronica, I’m not wearing a bra but I’M ON MY WAY.”

“I NEED YOU, BETTY!”

Five minutes and an awkward send off later (she has Smithers pay the bill; she didn’t bring her wallet as she was too busy having a fucking heart attack), Betty’s cradling Veronica in her arms.

She’s sobbing openly, and Kevin is there, sitting in the corner in the fetal position. When Betty walked in, he cried out, “HELP! I WAS TELLING HER ABOUT FANGS AND THEN SHE STARTED FREAKING OUT!”

“Betty,” Veronica wails into Betty’s chest, “Oh god. Oh god. What am I gonna do.”

“Shh, shh, calm down, calm down.”

“We were so safe, Betty! We used protection!”

“I know, Ronnie, I know. Shh, shh.”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE A MOM! I hate children!”

“Have you taken a test yet?”

“N-no,” she sniffles, “I just realized I’m late and called you.”

“Veronica -- “

“But I’m like, a week late. THAT IS NOT NORMAL!” She bursts into fresh tears, holding Betty’s waist so hard that she loses her breath.

“Take a test, V! You’ve been working out a lot lately, plus there’s school, plus your parents have been breathing down your neck, plus your relationship has changed. That’s a lot, all at once, and this might just be stress.”

“Will you come with me?” She begs.

“Please,” Kevin says, pressed as far into the corner as he can be, “PLEASE go with her.”

Betty doesn’t just go with her, she picks Veronica up off the floor, helps her walk to the bathroom, and even helps her find and open the box. After reading the instructions, she steps out, closing the door behind her. They talk the whole time, about the weather of all things, and when Veronica’s done, she comes and sits with Betty on the nice carpet.

“Three minutes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Betty, what am I gonna do if it’s positive?”

“I don’t know,” she says, barely able to comprehend what the consequences would be. “How did this happen anyway?”

“After I joined Choni—it was amazing, by the way—I came home and Archie was jealous. We talked, and I don’t know, one thing led to another, and we had sex. And it was great. He seriously gave me three orgasms before he came. He actually tried this time, Betty!”

“That’s amazing, V.”

“He kept muttering about Jughead, though. Which is mildly concerning, but I let it slide.”

“Too blissed out?” Betty teases.

“You know it! And listen, we did use protection. I’m not an idiot. But something must’ve happened, I mean, we noticed it teared a little but not badly.”

“What? Veronica!”

“It was after he pulled out, Betty, we didn’t know until then! I swear! I wouldn’t let him touch me bare or with a broken condom in a million years!”

Betty inhales and exhales deeply. “Well, I guess we’ll see if it was bad enough in a minute.”

Veronica starts to cry again, pressing the heel of her palms into her eyes. “We were safe, Betty. We were. We were _so_ careful. I promise you.”

Betty can’t stand to see her friend so upset, and pulls her into another hug. “I believe you, V. And if you are pregnant, then I’m here for you, every step of the way. I promise you that.”

“Thank you.” She whimpers, and hides her face in Betty’s neck. “What have I done?”

The phone timer Veronica starts ringing before Betty can respond, and Veronica stands shakily. Betty jumps to her feet, too. Tears drying, Veronica says, “I don’t think I can do it. I can’t. I can’t look.”

“Do you want me to -- ?”

“Yes! Please, yes, Betty.”

“Alright.” Gingerly, she opens the door to the bathroom, and finds the test laying on the sink. Heart pounding, she steps close, and finds that there’s only one line.

Not pregnant.

Betty looks up at Veronica, feeling numb.

“So?” Veronica asks, so nervous and upset she’s shaking like a dog. “Am I -- that?”

“N-no. You’re not.”

Veronica immediately bursts into tears again, flinging herself at Betty, and rocking them back and forth. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

It takes significant effort to walk Veronica back out to the living room. She goes looking for Kevin, but he’s nowhere to be found. There’s a note on the back of the door that says, ‘I GOT THE FUCK OUT LET ME KNOW WHEN IT’S SAFE TO COME BACK ALSO LOVE YOU, YOU CAN HAVE ALL MY TWINKIES! AND YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL AS A WOMAN OF THE 21ST CENTURY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO CHOSE! WE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU. OKAY BYEEE’

Laughing, Betty shakes her head. She texts Jughead quickly saying, ‘Veronica had an emergency and I’m gonna be here for the considerable future. Will def be back by tomorrow afternoon by the latest. Love you xoxo’

**Jughead:** Betty I love you with all my heart and soul, but what the fuck!!! was that?

**Betty:** Veronica had an emergency

**Betty:** I hope you understand Juggie

**Jughead:** … I do

**Jughead:** Please text me before you go to bed if you aren’t home by then

**Jughead:** Love you too sweetheart, stay safe

Her heart swelling, she turns back to Veronica. “So, you wanna watch some TV?”

“No, my dear Betty, I want to get drunk.” She’s oddly composed considering the way she was sobbing just minutes ago, like the world was about to end. “The only question is, vodka or tequila?”

Two hours later, Betty calls Jughead. When he picks up, she giggles, “Juggie, hi! Hi. You’re my husband. Did you know that?”

Sounding resigned, Jughead says, “Yeah, I knew that. Are you gonna be staying the night there, or coming back home?”

“Well—” She hiccups. “—V is passed out in bed next to me, and Kevin still hasn’t come back, so I wanna—I wanna come home, Juggie. Will you come get me?”

“With what car?” he groans, but she hears him grabbing their keys, and pumps her fist.

“Yes! I love you so much, babe, oh my god. You’re amazing.” She giggles loudly, then realizes she needs to shut up before she wakes up Veronica. “You know what happened tonight?”

“No, what?”

“Veronica had a pregnancy scare.”

Jughead inhales sharply. There’s more noise on his end, but she doesn’t pay any attention to it. “Just a scare, right?”

“Yeah, thank god. You remember Thanksgiving last year? She didn’t have a scare. She just wanted to tell me I should fuck your brains out.”

“That’s some sound advice.”

“Did Archie tell you you should fuck _my_ brains out? ‘Cause that’s some even sounder advice.”

“No, he told me you were hopelessly in love with me and I shouldn’t wait any longer to tell you.”

“Wow, that’s probably the smartest thing Archie has ever said. Though, admittedly, the bar is set pretty low.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Really, I think it was just so obvious at that point, anyone would’ve been able to tell.”

She laughs for several minutes, and once she sobers slightly, she asks, “Where are you, Juggie? I miss you.”

“I’m on the way, sweetheart. Now, what’d you drink tonight?”

“It was jello shots.”

“Shots of what?”

“Vodka.”

“Oh no baby, you know what vodka does to you.”

“It makes me do the whoopsies.”

“Yep, it sure does. I’m definitely on my way, okay, Betts? Just sit tight, and stay away from the microwave.”

“No!”

“What?”

“Don’t hang up, Juggie, I don’t want you to hang up. We barely talk. I miss your voice.”

“Betty, we talk every single day.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“You’re my husband, you’re supposed to know!” Then a thought occurs to her. “Oh jeez, can you imagine if we got pregnant?”

“I … don’t want to right now.”

“I had a dream about it once. We had a baby already, and I was pregnant. It was nice. We should do that in real life sometime.”

“Betty.”

“I said sometime, not now! But maybe tomorrow?”

“You want me to get you pregnant with two babies tomorrow?”

“If possible, yeah. _Please_ Juggie.”

“How about this. We’ll talk it over in the morning when you’re less inebriated.”

“No, I wanna talk now.”

“Betty, we need to get through college first. Then we can come back to this.”

“But it would be so much fun to have your babies.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Don’t hang up!”

“I won’t, I promise, but can we please just talk about something else?”

“Can we get a cat?”

“Jesus, Betty.”

“Please! Cats are so cute! Fred’s cat is precious.”

“His name is literally Dr. Fluffy, of course he’s precious. Ours wouldn’t be.”

“You don’t know that.

“I’d name it Burt Snakehole Ludgate Karate Dracula Macklin Demon Jack-o-Lantern Dwyer Jones.”

“Jack for short?”

“You know it, babe.”

He gets there not long after, and they take another cab home, his jacket draped over her shoulders. When they get home, she attempts to kiss him and take him to bed, but he just tucks her in and tells her not tonight.

“Juggie,” she whines, making grabby hands. “Come here.”

“I will in a second, I gotta call Kevin really quick.”

“Noooo.”

“Yes. Just be patient, Betty.”

By the time he comes back, she’s fast asleep.

* * *

When she wakes up the next day, Jughead’s not in bed with her. She can hear him upstairs though, and so she stumbles out of bed and up the steps, wanting to give him a hug.

She finds him trying to cook breakfast, and he’s wearing a little apron that makes the lizard brain sing. It says ‘Kiss the Cook’ and who’s she to disobey direct orders?

Her arms come around his stomach, and he jumps. She kisses the back of his neck, the highest she can reach. Instead of turning around and returning the kiss, he stiffens.

“Juggie?” She asks, confused. He’s never reacted that way before.

“Morning,” he says, not sounding particularly cheery.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Something’s wrong.”

“You feel okay this morning? Got a headache?”

“No, not really. My mouth tastes gross, but that’s it.”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, I answered your question, now answer mine. What’s wrong?”

“I told you, nothing.”

“And we both know you’re lying. We both know what cultured dudebro Reggie says about this: Like, dude, in today’s society you have be open to communication between your partners and relationships so it can like flourish and grow into a beautiful union of minds, bodies, and souls, bro.”

“Do you just have that memorized?”

“Yes. It was beautiful, I wanted to remember it. Now, don’t make me call Reggie over here to drag you for not talking to me.”

“I would divorce you the second he left.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I _would_.”

“Jughead, you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“... No,” he grumbles. “But I could.”

“But you wouldn’t. Now, please, tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.”

He sighs, and turns around. “You drank last night.” It’s not an accusation, just pure fact, but it feels like a slap in the face.

Feeling defensive, she says, “Yeah, so? Am I not allowed to drink? I’m an adult.”

“You’re allowed, I just don’t like it.”

“Why?”

“It’s just that, New York is a big ass city and I don’t want the woman I love roaming around the streets without being fully aware of her surroundings.” He sighs, hair not flopping forward like she expects it to. He’s wearing his beanie. He doesn’t feel like he can be vulnerable right now. _Fuck_ , she thinks, does he not trust her or something?

“Well, I didn’t go roaming the streets, I called _you_ to come get me for that express purpose.” She retorts, walking over to the couch and sitting down heavily.

“I know Betts, it’s just that,” he sits down on the sofa next to her and continues, “All my life, I had to see my dad ruin his life with that poison, driving us all away, especially Mom and Jellybean, constantly wasting his money on the bottle instead of paying the bills. And if what you said last night about kids is even remotely true,” he takes off his beanie and lets it drop to the floor, then grabs her hands in his own and inhales shakily, “I don’t ever want you and I to be in that situation, _ever_ . I’m sorry if I’m overreacting Betts, I love you so much that just _thinking_ about what could have happened if you hadn’t been so you and called me last night…. I guess I was just scared, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Juggie,” Betty’s eyes soften, “I am so sorry for making you feel that way, and I promise it’ll never happen again, but you also have to trust me to make my own decisions in life. Like I said, I am a responsible adult who can make her own choices.”

“I know that, Betts, I know that in my head but when it comes to you, rational thought goes out the fucking window,” he chuckles.

Betty tugs him into a hug, holding on tightly. He kisses his forehead, then the side of her face, and every other spot he can reach. They stay like that for what seems like forever and a second. They stay there as they wait for their coffee to brew, relishing the fact that they can actually spend time together for what seems like the first time all week. Until Jughead breaks the silence.

“So,” he says in her ear, “What’s this I hear about having my kids?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter in this year, and boy, are they interesting....
> 
> Read and Review!!
> 
> We will love you forever!!


	7. YEAR TWO - PART FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More cultured dudebro Reggie, more bughead, more gays
> 
> OR
> 
> Ari and Dottie are trying to placate their depression with gay humor
> 
> OR
> 
> It's like 3 am where Ari is and she's dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late with this update, we weren't finished with it last week, and then our wonderful beta, Izzie, didn't have time to beta all week, BUT here it is!

Kevin invites them out for lunch the next day, not telling them until they get to the restaurant that A) they’re paying, and that B) Reggie will be there, as well as Choni. It’s not like they’re upset to see their friends, but they’d assumed that it would be more lowkey than this.

Once they’re settled in their seats, pushed close together so that Jughead can drape his arm over her shoulders, Kevin claps his hands excitedly. “Okay, so! I’ve brought you all here today to talk about a certain boi named Fangs.”

“Ah yes,” Cheryl says. “Please, Keller, elaborate on your new boy toy.”

“He’s not my boy toy, Cher, he’s a boy—- “

“Who you’re toying with?” Toni jokes. Betty laughs, and so do the others, except for Kevin, who rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“No, Toni, I am not toying with him. I am dating him.”

“What?”

“Really?”

“You serious, bro?”

“For real?”

“Legit?”

“Yes!” Kevin squeals. “We went out two nights ago, and it was amazing. He didn’t talk about anything weird, or do anything creepy, or anything bad at all! Like, I hate to say it, but Ronnie is a genius. Fangs is amazing. And so hot. Like, hotter-than-everyone-here hot, which really says something.”

“As if, Keller, when Toni and I are part of the equation, he doesn’t stand a chance.” Cheryl scoffs.

“Hey, what about us?” Jughead asks, mostly joking, but the way Cheryl’s eyes narrow tell Betty she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Jones, you aren’t even in the same curriculum. Run along and let the big gays play.”

“Congrats, bro,” Reggie says, giving him a fistbump and seemingly accepting Kevin’s words while ignoring the rest of what just happened. ”I’m so glad you found someone who can match your level of intensity. It’s admirable.”

“Thanks, Reg. I gotta ask, where’s – ?”

“Josie? Oh, she’s already in Riverdale to prep for her upcoming show with Valerie and Melody. She has some great songs coming up, you know? I can’t wait to support my lady doing what she loves.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Betty tells him, patting his arm. She leans back into Jughead, and asks, “Juggie, take notes from dear, sweet Reginald here.”

“Hey! I support you!”

“Even if it’s – ”

“Of course, baby,” he says, kissing her quickly.

“ – say, puppies?”

“We can get one puppy. _One_ , Betts. There are only so many puppy dog eyes I can handle, and yours are so good, it counts for two dogs. So, one puppy. That’s it.”

“Really?” She asks, sitting up more and turning towards him. “We can get a puppy?”

“You fucked up, dude,” Toni laughs, sipping at her drink.

“No, he didn’t! Puppies are great, they make everything better, and I won’t hear another word unless it’s in agreement with me.”

“I _agree_ that we’re here to talk about me, not you,” Kevin cuts in, looking annoyed. “Just for that, I get to be there when you get the puppy!”

“Uh, Kev, I don’t – ”

“Fine, deal accepted. Tell us more about the date.”

Finally back in the spotlight where he belongs, Kevin steamrolls on. “Well, first of all, the place we went to was his suggestion, so he said he’d pay. He did say no steak though, which, like, relatable. Then, when we were ordering, he told me what was good and what wasn’t, and said he has tried the blue mountain oyster before and that it was fucking gross.”

“Aww,” Jughead says, obviously still a little annoyed from Cheryl’s earlier comment, “He knows his food. That’s perfect.”

“Of course you would think so, Hobo.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Us hobos don’t have a steady source of food, Cheryl, so it’s sorta important to us.”

“My poor cousin needs to eat, Jughead Jones. Clearly, you cannot provide sufficiently for her.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped making us pay for every group meal we have, we wouldn’t be starving.”

“We aren’t starving,” Betty quickly tells Toni, Kevin, and Reggie, who all look concerned.

“Seriously, Betts, it’s a group of seven, but when Kevin is eating his feelings and Archie’s trying to get gains, it’s like we’re feeding twelve! And that’s not including me!”

“Oh boo hoo, it’s not like we don’t have good reasons to make you pay.”

“Being bored and gay is not a good reason, Cheryl.”

“Maybe in your book, you hetero!”

“I’m not a hetero!” Jughead cries out. “For fuck’s sake! Betts told me you had the best gaydar on the planet, ever, so you know that I know that you know that I’m not.”

“Oh please, Jughead, it’s not personal.”

“Jugbro, if I may translate what Cheryl is trying to get across to you without trying to mansplain, she knows that you aren’t heterosexual or heteroromantic, but like, I think she does this for comedic effect because it’s just easier to call you hetero because you aren’t in a homosexual relationship and she doesn’t want use the asexual spectrum as a scapegoat for your admittedly endearing but markedly antisocial tendencies,” Reggie spouts, the rest staring in awe.

“So in summation it’s really not personal but Cheryl, I recommend that you lay off him a bit as he clearly is still in turmoil over it, probably because he just recently came out to you all, his closest bros.”

Jughead clears his throat noisily, clearly shooketh. “Um, thanks, man.”

“It’s okay Jugbro, we all accept you for who you are, and we feel extremely privileged to be some of the first people to know. That clearly shows a level of trust that is built through hardships and growing moments, you’re very brave my dude. Supes commendable, fam. And if anyone tries to give a hard time, just send them my way – ”

“No, no, Reg, it’s okay, you won’t have to, like, fight these people—- “

“– and I will have an in depth conversation with them to try and suss out the reason why they express this irrational hatred that is so rude and uncool, dude, but, if they still refuse to see sense, I’ll threaten them with my lawyers, because violence is still not the way, fam.”

“Uh, thanks… dude?”

“Anytime, broski.”

“Can we get back to me?!” Kevin demands. “Reggie, we fucking love you, and Jughead, we support you, but this is _about me_!”

“Then fuckin’ talk, you TJMaxx reject!” Toni says, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair. “Keep the conversation on you.”

“But I love to hear Reggie talk.”

“You do have a nice voice,” Betty tells him sincerely.

“Have you ever thought about hosting a podcast?” Jughead asks, tugging Betty a little closer into his side.

“Nah bro, nowadays I just enjoy quietly pondering before I speak, I find that it helps a conversation be more fruitful and like, productive as fuck. Besides I’ll happily leave the voice department to Josie.”

Kevin nods, eyes wide like he’s listening to like, Jesus, or maybe Gaga. Probably Gaga, if Betty’s being honest here. “That’s so insightful, Reg. Wow. And we all thought you peaked in high school,” he scoffs. “No offense, though.”

“None taken, my dude. I didn’t give you a reason not to.”

“Well, we like this new you,” Betty says, only to be steamrolled over by Cheryl.

“Reggie, WHAT THE FUCK???!?!?! WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY PSYCHE? AND WHY AM I NOT KISSING MY GIRLFRIEND RIGHT NOW. TOOONIIIIIII MPF – “

Betty laughs, shaking her head fondly as her cousin is thoroughly kissed by her girlfriend. “Anyway, you two boys going home for Christmas?”

“Betty, I wanna talk about – ”

“Kev, that conversation is over and done with. We can talk about this boi over text, where I don’t have to pay for us all to eat.”

“Isn’t it Betty’s turn?”

“No! Not today, satan! Not to-fucking-day! We have been paying consistently for the past year. Your turn, bitches! And be warned—Mommy and Daddy want steak!”

“Why the _fuck_ would you call yourselves that?!”

“Because you’re all fucking _children_ who can’t bother to pay for their own meals, even though _all_ of you are comfortably middle class, _at the least_ . We had to get _married_ to pay for college! You two,” he declares, pointing a finger at Cheryl and Toni, “have redecorated your entire dorm room, with nothing close to IKEA, which is entirely against the policy, by the way, and I’m pretty sure the only reason why is because Cheryl bought the fucking building. And **_you_ ** ,” he points now at Kevin, “you and Ronnie live in a fucking _penthouse apartment off Broadway_ ! You have walk-in wardrobes and two flat screen TVs! What on earth makes it justifiable to make us, _the actual poor people here_ , pay for all your fucking meals?! And you all have the palettes of a Gossip Girl extra, and zero fucking shame! You assholes!”

“Jug, babe, calm down,” Betty says, rubbing soothing circles onto his chest. She agrees with him, of course. Their jobs don’t pay well enough, and even though she does want a puppy, they won’t have the money to get one for a long time. “But yeah, you guys are paying or you’re going hungry.”

“Fine,” Cheryl huffs, “It’s not like I don’t have the money, anyway.”

“...anyway,” Kevin says, “So, Fangs has like, an eight inch dick, and I just can’t keep that to myself anymore. Oh my god.”

* * *

Josie comes home a few days later, preparations apparently taken care of, and Reggie goes back into hiding.

“Is their place a sex den or something? Because I swear he only wants to hang out when she’s not around,” Toni complains from the floor of the off-Broadway apartment.

Kevin sighs, pulling off his fashionable and nonfunctional glasses and rubbing at his eyes, somehow managing to look just like his dad. “Toni, that’s exactly what they’re doing. Now stop whining, we have to finish this up.”

“Ugh, but Kev, we all already know that Cheryl and I will be there. It’s the rest of us that you’re worried about, so don’t act like I’m the problem here.”

“Cheryl is literally two seconds away from pushing your shirt all the way off, _in front of all of us_ , so don’t act like I’m acting like you’re _not_ the problem.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, douche.” Toni laughs joyfully when Kevin gives her a glare.

Jughead groans, eyes closed against his headache. Betty pulls a Twinkie out of her pocket, stolen from Kevin of course, and offers it to him. He takes it as he says, “Kevin, stop it. I can’t brain right now.”

“Doesn’t take brain to give it,” Cheryl mutters, pulling Toni’s shirt down and laying next to her with a massive sigh.

“What do you mean?” Archie asks, immediately shoving a ladle of protein powder in his mouth. He’s down to his last few fingers of water, and his eyes are misty, but ever since Cheryl dared him he couldn’t do it, he’s been determined to consume it dry with only a single bottle of water. Betty’s pretty sure he’s about to drop dead.

“Oral sex can be called giving brain, Archibald, Jesus Christ,” Kevin intones. “Please learn about something other than the difference between treble and bass clefs. Anyway, Betty, Jug, we’ve established that Archie will be too busy in the ER to come to Josie’s concert. What about you two?”

“When is it starting again?” Betty asks, meeting his eyes.

The look he gives her is his special Kevin brand of judgy. “Girl, come on. I know you two have been busy lately, but this is only the most important concert of Josie’s life.”

“I know, Kevin, just remind me the time.”

“It starts at eight sharp, and she will have those doors closed tight by 8:05, so don’t be late.”

Jughead finishes his Twinkie just in time to say, “Okay, great, 8:05. We can do that. We can, right, Betts?”

She takes his hand in hers, linking their fingers together and giving a squeeze. They’re nearing their second anniversary already, but hearing him refer to them as a team still makes her heart flutter. “Yeah, we can. For sure.”

“Great!” Kevin says, clicking his pen on the desk. “Now, we’re just waiting on Veronica to get done with her makeup, and then we can move on.”

“But Kevin,” Toni gasps, “This is the most important thing in the whole world! How can we just move on, like it’s nothing?”

“Antoinette Topaz – ”

“Whatever you’re about to say better be praise, Kevin Keller, or so help me God, I will use my manicure to eviscerate you.”

“Oh my god,” Kevin cries out, turning to the other three people in the room. Arms flailing, he meets Betty’s eyes. “Do you guys not see this shit?”

“Dude, don’t call her Antoinette.” Archie shakes his head, “You had it coming, bro.”

“Yeah, look, I’ve made that mistake before. I think my wrist is forever fucked up because of it.”

“You have carpal tunnel and just don’t want to admit it, you all-American reject,” Cheryl snaps.

Kevin ignores her and says, “ _Betty_? Help me!”

Betty shrugs, trying to beat down the grin that’s threatening to break through. “Not even I’m allowed to call her that, Kev.”

“There’s no helping you here,” Jughead tells him, apparently unphased by Cheryl’s insult.

“Oh my god.” Kevin sweeps his eyes around the room again, probably looking for Veronica to take his side, but instead he meets Toni’s gaze. Slowly, she shakes her head and drags a finger across her throat.

And at that, Betty _has_ to laugh, and she doubles over, snorting. Jughead’s and Archie’s laughs join hers, and then Toni’s and Cheryl’s and even Kevin’s, and that’s what Veronica walks into.

She pauses in the mouth of the hallway, holding her purse in one hand and a towel in the other, and stares for a long moment. Then—“What the fuck, guys?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Betty giggles, waving her hands in the air and gasping for breath. “You missed it. Oh my god.”

“Aww, sad. Anyway, when you guys are done, I’m ready to go out.”

“Only took you literally two years,” Archie jokes, spraying protein powder with every word. Veronica rolls her eyes and ignores him, dropping the towel in the laundry basket by the door and grabbing something out of the fridge.

“Archiekins, you can’t rush perfection,” Veronica tells him as she breezes by. “Now shut up and appreciate it.”

“Appreciating, appreciating, shutting up, appreciating, yup,” Archie nods vigorously, and shoves another full ladle of powder in his mouth.

“Good boy. I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“Harsh but fair,” Archie chokes out, thought Betty can see, plain as day, the hurt on his face. Their open relationship is still a sore spot for him, since Veronica sees Choni so much more than him. Juilliard just doesn’t want to let him go and see (more accurately, _fuck_ ) his girlfriend. Meanwhile, Choni are always over visiting, or she’s going to their place. Sad.

“I’m glad you’re self-aware in that, at least,” Kevin complains. “V, can’t you tell the poor boy is miserable? Why can’t you cut him some slack? And also maybe suck his dick a little?”

Jughead bursts into more laughter at that, crowing, “A little! Oh god.”

“Mr. Plastic Fantastic has a point, Veronica, I think it’s time we end our arrangement. But on the plus side, Archibald here has been taking lessons and now understands the importance of foreplay. We showed him a powerpoint and everything.”

“Yeah, they had like thirty-six slides, and it was very informative,” Archie supplies with enthusiasm. “Now I know what a clitoris is, and how I should not ‘leave it unattended’.”

Toni sniffs, and tells him sincerely, “I’m so proud of you, you little ginger idiot.”

Betty watches all of this, thoughts snapping back to the present conversation at Toni’s insult. All the talk of sex had reminded her of the last time she and Jughead had bedded down, a few days ago now, and – _stop it_ , Lizard Brain! Not today! “What the hell did I miss?”

“Aww, were you daydreaming about getting dicked?” Veronica teases, emphasizing the last word with a hip thrust. “That’s a lot more fun than being berated by Kevin.”

“Jeez, Veronica, I’m trying to help you! Plus, Cheryl just cut you off! No more lesbianism for you!”

“We’re bisexual,” Cheryl and Toni correct at the same time.

Wow, Betty thinks suddenly, she really hasn’t been paying attention much. It’s almost as if her friend group are just side characters in a story from her point of view, and their main function is comedic relief and gay humor.

... _Nah_. That’s dumb. Why in the world would that be true? Girl, you just need to pay attention to your friends more. All the schoolwork has you slacking.

“Veronica, I think you need to talk to Choni and Archie for a minute,” Betty suggests, standing and stretching out her arms. “Like, maybe we could put off going to this club until after you work that out?”

Veronica’s face is perfectly frozen in her business woman smile as she says, “It’s fine, Betty. I’ll deal with it later. What we all need to do now is go and get crunk! Well, except for you, Jughead, I know you don’t like to have fun.”

Jughead rolls his eyes so hard his eyelashes flutter. “Someone has to make sure you idiots don’t die.”

“I can handle my alcohol just fine, Hobo.”

“I’m sure you can, Natasha Romanoff, but Kevin, for instance? Lightweight.”

“Hey! We all know your wife is the biggest lightweight here!”

“Excuse you, it’s not Betty’s fault she only likes Shirley Temples! She drinks like a sailor. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. It’s terrifying yet arousing.”

Cheryl clicks her tongue distastefully. “I’m not even going to _attempt_ to unpack your mess, but really, cousin? A Shirley Temple? I expected better from you.”

“Hey, shut up, asshole,” Jughead retorts, no real heat in his voice.

“First, don’t call the love of my life that word, and second, she right though.”

“Yeah, it’s gross, but I’m not gonna roast her in front of all of you, that’s rude as fuck.”

“Aww, thanks Juggie.”

“Of course, babe.” He stands, and they easily wrap their arms around each other, falling into the pose like it’s the most natural thing in the world. To the room he says, “Now, if you guys aren’t gonna have this talk, can we go? The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get home.”

“You’re so boring,” Toni tells him like it’s obvious. “Both of you. Standing there, holding each other, and I bet when you guys go home, you’re gonna watch Mulan for the five-hundredth time, and then, if there’s time, you’ll have a quickie in the shower before bed. Live a little, you freaks.”

“Yeah, Juggie,” Archie teases, tears streaming down his cheeks from the powder (Betty doesn’t see his water bottle and assumes it’s been drained of every drop) but his tone even. “Live a little.”

“Arch, you can do so much better than to copy Toni’s exact words,” Jughead says, unruffled. Betty giggles, shaking her head. “Like, offer up a suggestion. How can we spice up our boring lives?”

“Maybe do something beside watch your freaky murder shows and High School Musical?” Veronica suggests lightly.

Cheryl sits up, not a hair out of place, and adds, “Something palatable, maybe?”

“High School Musical is the most palatable thing on the planet, I’ll have you know,” Kevin defends immediately.

Veronica opens her mouth to say something, but then her phone rings. When she sees who it is, she squeals, “It’s Josie! Okay, be cool everyone, no one mention the fact that they’ve been boinking!”

“Why is it,” Jughead whispers in Betty’s ear, “that Josie and Reggie get to do their business uninterrupted but we don’t? Also, why do we keep calling it boinking?”

“It’s a meme and our brand now, babe.” She pats his cheek consolingly. “And they get to do it uninterrupted because they never told anyone where they moved to, which in hindsight is very smart and I don’t blame then. Why didn’t we do that?”

“Because we got Sugar Daddy-ed, babe, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right. Still worth it, though.”

“By the way, Cheryl, Ronnie, when we move out, we get to keep our stuff, right?”

“Of course, Hobo, and I’m sure our darling Veronica here can hook you up with a new chateau.”

Veronica says, “Hold on a sec, Josie, gotta help Bughead with something real quick.” She pulls the phone away from her face and starts scrolling. “I have places above my Snakeasy™ locations in Manhattan and Brooklyn, so… pick whichever one you want.”

“Brooklyn,” they say at the same time.

Betty adds, “Are we allowed pets?”

“Sweetheart,” Veronica says, pressing a hand over her heart, “I own the building. You can get one of those fucking endangered snow leopards for all I care. As long as it doesn’t eat one of my other tenants, I’m fine with it.” Then she puts the phone back to her face and continues to chat with Josie.

Archie scrapes the bottom of the container, miserably lifts the ladle, and, with shaking hands, swallows the last of it.

“Archibald,” Cheryl says, “When you’re done trying to give yourself clown-lung, are you ready for us to revive you before your inevitable collapse?”

Archie rasps out, “Yes please,” and then promptly collapses.

“Idiot,” Toni says, and really, that’s all that can be said about the situation.

Fifteen minutes later, Archie is revived by a mix of Gatorade and Red Bull that he says tastes like dish soap but drinks the entirety of. Then he tells Jughead, ”I’m stealing your brand,” and pukes all over himself.

Into the phone, Veronica sighs, “Josie, we’re gonna be even later. Archie just vomited all over my expensive couch. And we haven’t even popped a single bottle.”

Betty sighs and helps Kevin keep Archie upright, while Jughead crouches down in front of him, lifting his head up by a grip on his hair, and he says seriously, “Take that back, bitch.”

“Never!”

“Then perish.” He drops Archie’s head and it rolls down into the puke on his chest.

“Jughead!” Betty scolds, but Jughead ignores her and goes to stand with Toni and Cheryl, who have watched the whole scene from a safe distance.

“I regret nothing, Betty, _nothing_.”

“You better regret it, or else you aren’t getting anything from me for at least a month.” Betty raises a challenging eyebrow.

Jughead’s eyes widen, and then he’s blurting out, “I REGRET EVERYTHING! I REGRET EVERYTHING!”

“Stop yelling, Jughead!” Kevin and Veronica admonish.

Toni sighs, rolling her head back and stretching out her shoulders. “Look, he’s alive, so can we go? V, are they at the club already?”

“Yes, they are, and they’re waiting for us. So as soon as Archie is cleaned up, we can go!”

“I’m fine!” Archie complains, lifting his head and pushing away from Betty and Kevin. “I’m fine. Oh my god, I have a test tomorrow. I’m gonna die.”

“Hence why you, and all of us really, need to go get crunk,” Veronica suggests lightly, as Cheryl and Kevin agree immediately.

“You know what, Ronnie?”

“What’s that?”

“You’re a fucking genius. Let’s go get drunk!”

“Archibald, really? You aren’t going to change first?”

Archie looks down at his shirt covered in puke, and says, “Oh shit. Yeah, lemme go – lemme go do that.”

Betty sighs, running a hand through her hair, as Archie goes off to Veronica’s room where his bag is. When she meets Jughead’s eyes, he rolls his eyes and smiles and Betty feels for all the world like she’s on The Office which is, let’s be real, one of the best feelings in the world.

* * *

When it’s time to go up for Christmas, everything plays out perfectly so that they get a car to themselves. They’re driven by Andre again, who seems very content to look straight out the window and not talk. He does ask, right when they first get on the road, where the girls are.

Betty says, “They’re going up tomorrow. Toni has a final today.”

Other than that, they don’t do much but listen to music on the radio and occasionally talk about random things. Betty stays cuddled up under his arm the entire ride, wishing that there was a partition or something so she could maybe fuck him in private.

He’s been looking so good lately, his hair floppy and almost always bare of his beanie around her, and because they’ve kept up going to the gym, he’s got _serious_ muscle definition. She can’t help the way her hands stay on him the whole ride, on his thigh and his stomach and his palms and fingers. By the way he’s smiling, he doesn’t seem to mind it at all, but he still whispers in her ear, “You good, Betts?”

A blush spreads across her cheeks, and not because she’s embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I’m not ready to not be able to touch you as much as I want for a whole week.”

“Well you know, we could fake an emergency or something and stay at the Five Seasons,” he suggests lightly, his fingers linking together with hers. “That’s definitely an option.”

“Yeah, it is, but I doubt my mom is going to let me get out of any of the festivities.”

“Lame. But I’ll find a way to force myself into it, okay? You guys go to Pop’s, I’m there. You guys put up ornaments? It’s my favorite pastime. You open up presents? I’ve got some to give out.”

“I love you,” she tells him, hearts in her eyes, her mind in the gutter.

“I love you too.” For a moment, he just watches her, then asks, “Penny for your thoughts?”

With no shame, Betty tells the truth. “I’m thinking of the next time I can suck your dick.”

He bursts into laughter, but it’s not mocking, and breathlessly, he says, “We’re definitely going to the Five Seasons before this is all over.”

Of course, by the time they arrive in Riverdale, Betty is still thinking about it.

“For once,” Jughead jokes, “I’m not the one who – ”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Jughead Jones,” she threatens, no heat in her voice.

“Yes ma’am.”

Andre asks from the front, “Where to first?”

“Sunnyside, please.” Betty and Jughead have already decided on it, afraid of getting caught by Alice Cooper again, and it’s not very likely that FP will be home at this hour, sober as he is.

The rest of the drive is short, thank God. Betty watches Andre’s face as they pull up to the Jones’ trailer, noting that he’s expressionless—a good thing when the alternative is either mocking or disgust.

They both climb out, and once again, they find themselves at the trunk, not ready to leave.

Betty’s wearing Jughead’s old Ugly Christmas Sweater, for many reasons, chief among them being that it’s soft and it smells like him. He’s wearing a new sweater, somehow even uglier than the old one, and at her request, she’s been wearing it so it’ll smell like her. All of their friends have commented on this, saying it’s cute but also weird but also goals.

“Well,” Jughead starts, but doesn’t say anything else.

Betty takes the initiative and steps into a hug, holding him tightly. “I’m gonna call you tonight, after Mom goes to bed.”

“Just wait for my signal for Dad to be out or something, and then we can, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” she says into his chest. “I can’t wait. Your voice is so sexy at night.”

“You’re one to talk, you know.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Juggie,” she giggles, “Are we gonna spend our last few minutes of bliss before a week apart acting like children?”

He leans down and kisses her instead of answering, one hand in her hair and one at the small of her back. Betty’s arms come up around his neck, her fingers curling in his hair, and my God does it feel wonderful to be able to kiss here, in their hometown.

Her tongue peeks out, and his mouth opens, and Betty thinks maybe they should stop before it gets too heated, but she just doesn’t want to, and –

“YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!”

Betty jumps a foot in the air, pulling away from Jughead immediately. Jughead turns all the way around, standing up straighter, protecting her from whoever just screamed.

It turns out to be FP Jones himself.

He’s standing on his porch, a steaming mug in his hands, and he’s staring right at them, eyes and smile wide.

“Finally!” FP crows, “I’ve only been waiting for this for years now!”

“Oh my God,” Betty says, loud enough for both of the Jones men to hear. Jughead’s shoulders rise defensively.

Good naturedly, FP steps down off the porch, and comes towards them. “It’s okay, we all get caught eventually. And it looks like you two were having too much fun, if you – ”

“Dad. Stop it. Jesus, you’re being creepy,” Jughead shakes his head, not going for the hug FP clearly wants. “And what you just saw, it’s nothing, okay? Just – just – ”

“I don’t think you should call your girl nothing, Jughead. Don’t you have some manners?” FP quickly raises a hand, stopping Jughead from responding. “I know I didn’t teach you any, and I’m sorry for that, but somebody did, right? Fred, maybe?”

“Yeah, but this really is – ”

“Jughead,” Betty sighs, gears turning in her mind. Their parents will be furious if they find out they’re married, so what else can they say? How can she explain that kiss? Then it clicks, and without a second thought, she reaches out for Jughead’s arm, linking their fingers together again. “Give up the ghost. He caught us. We should just tell him.”

Wide eyed, Jughead asks, “Wh–What? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. But let me – I wanna do it, okay?”

He nods, so Betty turns to FP. ”We’re dating,” she says simply, “We have been since basically the beginning of freshman year.”

“Wow.” FP seems shocked, almost. “That’s a long time. How’re you holding up? All good?”

Jughead shifts on his feet a little. Betty rubs her thumb in a circle, hoping to calm him down. She can feel his anxiety over this, and it’s worrying. “Yeah, it’s all good Dad. We just… well, you know how Alice Cooper is. She’s gonna kill me when she finds out, and we just wanted to postpone that for as long as possible.”

“Well, speaking of Alice, you two realize now that I know, she has to know, too, right? Otherwise it’ll be two dead guys.”

“Oh god,” Betty groans, resting her forehead on Jughead’s shoulder so she can hide from the truth. “She’s gonna kill me too.”

“I won’t let that happen, Betts,” Jughead assures, humor in his words.

“That’s noble of you, boy, but unless she finds out _today_ , there’ll be no stopping her rampage.” FP takes a sip of his drink, and Betty has to bite her tongue to refrain from commenting.

“Fine,” Jughead sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Can I at least drop my stuff off first?”

“You two aren’t gonna be staying together?”

“Dad, if we’re in a secret relationship, how are we gonna stay together?”

FP doesn’t say anything about the annoyance in Jughead’s voice, and neither does Betty. If there’s one thing she’s learned about this relationship, it’s that Jughead is having a hard time forgiving him. Him getting snippy after being caught doesn’t surprise any of them.

“Here, Juggie, why don’t you get your bag inside, and I’ll tell Andre what’s happening, okay?”

He nods, and Betty basically flees, leaving them to it. When she gets back in the car, Andre asks, “Ready to go?”

“Actually, we’re both gonna go to my house next, so we’re just waiting for Juggie to do that, and then we can go.”

“Sounds good,” he says, and Betty leaves him be, suddenly panicking about what’s about to happen. In the moment, facing FP, it was easy to lie, easy to be calm, but now…. Now, they’re gonna go talk to her mom, and she’s gonna kill them all, and somehow, someway, Betty was stupid enough to make this convoluted-ass relationship even more complicated. Well, the labels are complicated. Loving him isn’t.

She looks down, and realizes—thank god—that she’s not wearing her ring. She took hers off this morning, before they left, positive she wouldn’t remember to do so when they got here.

Part of her thinks, it would’ve been easier to just tell the truth. No, their parents wouldn’t be happy, but then they wouldn’t have to lie (as easy as it was, that doesn’t mean she feels good about it). They could be open and in love the way they actually are. They could deal with their parents and it would be fine.

But Jughead had seemed spooked when she said that they should tell the truth, and anyway, hasn’t it been her the whole time, saying that they shouldn’t?

“Ugh,” she groans again, dropping her head into her hands.

“You okay, Mrs. Cooper?”

 _Mrs. Cooper. That shouldn’t be your name,_ whispers the lizard brain. _It should be Jones._

Excuse you, bitch. It’s Cooper-Jones. As much as I don’t like my history, I’m not giving up my name.

“Just peachy, Andre.”

* * *

 

FP comes with them. He sits in the front seat and talks their ears off, and tells three different stories about Fred’s cat.

Alice’s eyes twitch when she sees him and Jughead,  demanding, “Elizabeth, why are they here?”

“Um, look, we need to tell you something, and it’s not bad! So don’t worry! But we kinda all have to tell you. Well, Jughead and I do.”

“Then why is _he_ here.” It’s not a question.

“Alice – ”

“I’m talking to my daughter, not you.” Alice raises a hand, palm flat. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say, FP.”

“Mom, he’s here because he has to do with what we need to tell you. Now, can we come in?”

Alice rolls her eyes, but lets them in, and soon enough, they’re sitting on the couch, Alice in one of the high-backed chairs.

“Long story short,” Betty says, heart pounding in her chest, “Jughead and I are dating.”

Alice is silent for a moment. Her face is frozen. FP glances between Betty and Jughead, and Alice. Then Alice says, very calmly, “What.”

“Mom – ”

“WHAT?!”

“Mrs. Cooper – ”

“ELIZABETH MARY COOPER, I SWEAR TO GOD. I give you one rule – one rule! Don’t date a Jones! And what do you do? You date a Jones!” She stands furiously, arms crossed. “Are you doing this to make me angry? Because it’s working. And why is FP here? Explain, _now_ , Elizabeth.”

“I caught them kissing, and told them to come right over and tell you. Please don’t murder me?”

Betty imagines her mom’s eyes going black and fire spewing out of her mouth. What actually happens—i.e., the glare she gives—is close enough.

“Jug-Head.”

“Yes?”

“Are you and my daughter having sex?”

Jughead chokes on nothing, FP laughs, and Betty burns so red _she_ thinks she might start breathing fire instead of her mom. “Mom! Oh my god! You can’t just – ”

“I can and I will. And if I don’t get an answer in the next ten seconds, who knows what I’ll do.”

“Yes! Yes, okay, we are having sex, but we’re both adults, and we’re safe, and it’s really none of your business.”

“I want you both out of my house.”

“Oh, FUCK all the way off, Mom! We all know what you were doing when you were my age! At least I love Jughead. Can’t say the same for you.”

Under his breath, Jughead whispers, “Yass, queen.”

“Girl, are you crazy? Do you want to die? Or worse, get a bob? Jughead can’t afford it—no one else would be able to fill the hole in his heart. Also, no one would want to date him!”

“Dad, what the fuck!?”

Alice, frozen again in her fury, watches all of this happen and then walks over to the fireplace and grabs a poker. She raises it like a shank, and in seconds, Betty is pushed behind Jughead, who’s pushed behind FP. Their parents have a standoff, FP with his hands raised and body loose, Alice looking for all the world like she could stab him at a moment’s notice. “I want you all out of my house. Now. You too, Elizabeth. I won’t have a disrespectful child under my roof, even if it is the holidays.”

Betty hurries to the kitchen, and is back in a few seconds, a rolling pin in hand. Alice and FP are talking, and Jughead is rolling his wrists, but his fists aren’t curled.

She takes a deep breath, and pushes past both of the men. Bellowing, she lifts the rolling pin high, “If you touch a hair on Jughead’s beautiful  head—or FP’s—you will spend Christmas in a hospital bed, woman! I have bludgeoned somebody with this already! I will not hesitate to do it again!”

“You are just like your father,” Alice spits, but lowers the poker.

“Keep acting like a child and you’ll see how similar we are.”

“Betts, why don’t we—”

“Yeah, let’s go, honey. The Five Seasons awaits,” she mimics Cheryl, and soon enough, they’re out of the house, back on the road to the trailer park. “Did that really just happen?” Betty asks, but she doesn’t want an answer.

Jughead’s pressed so close to her that they basically are the same being, and he’s been jiggling his knee up and down nervously, not saying anything. In fact, none of them have after FP asked Andre to take them back to Sunnyside. He turns to her when she speaks, and tells her, “A, that was very attractive, and B, are you sure I’m worth all that?”

Point A makes her smile. Point B takes it away.

“Jughead, of course you’re worth it. You’re worth it all. You’re, like, L’Oreal ad levels of worth it. Steven Lim levels of worth it.”

“But—“

“No, no, listen to me.” She turns as much as she can, holding his face in her hands so he has to look her in the eye. “That sucked a lot and it’s gonna suck for a while, but I’m honestly not surprised. My mom doesn’t tolerate losing any control. When me or Polly does something she doesn’t like… it’s like a nuclear bomb drops. I just can’t believe she’d threaten all of us like that.”

“I’m sorry, Betts,” he sighs into her hair, “But you handled it really well. Like, really, really well. Where the hell did you get that rolling pin at? I thought you said she has hers put up.”

Betty can’t help but grin. “I have a pocket rolling pin to bludgeon people with, Juggie. It folds up.”

“Wow, that’s so practical, babe. You’re so smort.”

“I know!” She giggles, “And thank you.”

“I can’t believe I married a queen,” he says sincerely, kissing her cheek. While he’s close, he whispers,  “We really can go to the Five Seasons if you want.”

“I’m gonna need it sooner rather than later,” she sighs, shoulders dropping as the weight of everything washes over her again.

By the time they pull into Sunnyside a second time in one day, Betty thinks she’s fine. Or rather, she hopes she’ll be fine. Yeah, she isn’t surprised her mom pulled that stunt, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. Thank god Jughead is here, though.

She’s realizing that she’s a Wife, one of those ones on TV shows that have the perfect relationship. And no, they aren’t perfect, but the one thing about those relationships Betty’s always admired was how they stood together through every storm. The thing about them—about hashtag Bughead—is that she can rely on him, and trust that they’ll face everything together. That he’ll always be there to help and support her.

God, what is it about holidays that make her so introspective? She shakes her head and tries to expel the thoughts, and focus on the path they take to the Jones’ trailer.

“I still can’t believe you threatened her with a rolling pin,” Jughead laughs as they go up the steps of the trailer.

“For you, Juggie, I’d threaten her with a whole Target Home Section.”

* * *

 

 

_Bughead will return in a few weeks, but for now enjoy a teaser of our companion story:_

**SOUND**

Cheryl gets up two hours early, needing time to perfect her makeup and hair. Thankfully, since she uses Covergirl’s new _So Lashy!_ mascara, she never needs to worry about flat looking eyelashes, plus she can go in the water and they’ll look just as good as before. _Thanks, Covergirl_ , she thinks, giving herself a toothy grin in her mirror as she does her hair in waves. It’s like a ginger waterfall, which will go nicely with Sweetwater as the backdrop.

She packs an extra outfit. There’ll be twenty-five pictures taken, after all, and she wants there to be some variety. There’s also the distinct possibility that she and Sweetwater River might collide in some way. Not that she expects to fall, or even be pushed in, but – well, it’s better to take precautions  than to walk around soaking wet.

The makeup bag is also packed. Right now, her makeup looks amazing—her highlight is blinding, as it should be—but she has a feeling she might need it.

Just before she leaves, she messages Antoinette.

 **cherrybombshell:** You are still coming, aren’t you?  
 _  
**southside_phontonis:** I’m already here bombshell _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, we are going on a hiatus...but it's okay! It's just because school is starting up, and we wanted to get back ahead like we were for the majority of posting so far.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Please comment, we will love you forever!!!


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